


Bound by Wild Desire

by DangerousDan



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon Season One, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bitchy Hannibal, Blow Jobs, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Canon-Typical Violence, Codependency, Complete, Dark Will Graham, Dream Sex, Explicit sexual content m/m only, F/M, Father/Son Incest, Hand Jobs, Incest, Jealous Will Graham, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, POV Alternating, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Rimming, Sorry but if you marry a guy with seven dogs and a drinking problem you are a codpendent, Terrible therapists so Canon complaint, Top Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 56,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23225029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousDan/pseuds/DangerousDan
Summary: Hannibal and Will meet under the same circumstances, but Will is already married to Molly. They both realize the intensity of their connection much sooner including its romantic and sexual underpinnings.  An unexpected incident leads to the discovery that Hannibal is Will's biological father. Hannibal sees opportunity in the turn of events.
Relationships: Molly Graham/Will Graham, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 178
Kudos: 391





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KatherineKrawl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineKrawl/gifts), [Gweezle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gweezle/gifts).



Will awoke with a start which was not unusual. What was unusual was his semen-soaked boxers. Jesus, this hadn’t happened to him since high school. He looked nervously over at Molly whose rhythmic breathing told him that his wife was fortunately asleep. He slid out of the bed carefully. Over the course of the night, he had kicked the covers off and when he had orgasmed he had evidently been on his back. So there was no traces of what happened in their bed. He took off his white short sleeved undershirt. Then, gingerly, his boxers and wrapped his shirt around them. He moved quietly to the bathroom. He waited to turn the light on until after the door was shut. He dumped his mortifying bundle into the sink and filled it with water. He intended to rinse them out before putting them in the laundry hamper.

He turned on the shower and stepped in once the temperature was right, rinsing off the sticky evidence of his dream. He was deeply unsettled. The dream had been painfully erotic and intensely graphic. He’d never even had a fantasy that vivid. And never about a man. A man that he’d only met yesterday morning and whose mere presence angered Will. The way Jack Crawford ambushed him with Lecter infuriated him. Will huffed. He thought about Lecter’s intense gaze, the way he tried to force his way inside Will’s head. His accented voice responding calmly to Will’s gruffness, “I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.” Their conversation now seemed deeply ironic; he now was appalled by his dreams.

Will couldn’t get back to sleep after he returned to bed, to Molly’s side. He went downstairs and made coffee. He let the dogs out, watched them playing as he sat on the porch, feet up on the rail, drinking coffee. His mind drifted unwillingly to his dream. Some people said that when you dreamed of having sex with someone, it didn’t mean that you were attracted to them sexually, just that you wanted to be closer to them. That description did fit his old dreams about Alana, before Molly, tender but vague. He had wanted her physically, but he longed for her to know him. To not see him as a damaged, frail man that she would have to protect. That explanation was nonsensical in this case, because he had no desire for Lecter to know him. More than that, the sex wasn’t remotely symbolic and was far from vague. Lecter had been under him and Will had been thrusting into him. The feeling had been indescribably good. His face flushed when he felt himself harden just from remembering it.

He dropped his cup with a surprised “fuck” when Molly came out and said, “Good morning.”

“Sorry, hon, I didn’t mean to startle you,” her brow wrinkled slightly as she continued, “You must have been a thousand miles away.”

Will bent down to pick up the jagged remnants of the mug and to hide the annoyance he knew showed in his face. He hated that concerned look of Molly's. He didn’t want to look at her and see, no feel, her concern and the frustration of not being able to get past his _forts_. His stomach clenched, he wasn’t sure if it was anger or guilt.

“Don’t do that, Will, you’ll cut yourself. I’ll get a broom and clean it up”. The tone of her voice, so similar to the one she used with her actual child turned up the flame under his anger. He was capable of cleaning up his own messes. Guilt rose up in counterpoint, wasn’t he always letting her though, changing sweat soaked sheets after one of his frequent nightmares—but not this morning’s sheets almost stained with something else from another kind of dream. Putting him to bed when drank too much as he had with his father. He needed her. An ugly voice in his head asked him if he wanted her. It sounded suspiciously like Lecter’s. _Whose profile is he working on?_

When she came back and started sweeping up the broken pieces, Will asked her sharply, “Have you been talking to Alana about me?” His voice was strained and angry, cracking.

Molly froze.

“Molly.”

Molly finished sweeping the pieces of the coffee cup into the dustpan and leaned the broom against the porch railing. She took a deep breath and replied quietly, “Yes.”

She looked up at Will and instinctively took a step back, he was furious, his eyes bright and hard with none of the softness he usually showed her, his jaw clenching. He spoke loudly, almost but not quite yelling, “You were speaking about me behind my back to a woman who considered me so damaged that she wouldn’t date me? She’s your confidante?”

Molly swallowed, she hadn’t known that about Will and Alana. She spoke softly, trying to keep herself from pleading, “She’s your friend, Will. She was worried about the toll working with Jack is taking on you.”

Will stared intently into his wife’s eyes, she shifted, uncomfortable under his stare. Finally he spoke, his voice softer but imbued with a cold fury, “She’s the one that recommended Lecter.”

“Yes, he was her mentor at John Hopkins.” Will remained quiet, still staring at Molly. He spoke carefully, almost over enunciating his words, “Neither you or Alana are my goddamn mother. Don’t you ever talk to her about me again.”

“Will,” began Molly. Will took a step towards her and she move backwards again, hitting her lower back against the railing.

“Never again, Molly.”

Will stormed into the house. Molly exhaled harshly, she hadn’t even realized that she had been holding her breath. She looked down at her hands, shocked at their shaking. This wasn’t her Will. She heard him cursing in frustration as he looked for his keys inside the house. He came out a few minutes later in his coat, messenger bag over his shoulder and keys in his hand. He ignored her completely as he swept past her, down the wooden stairs to his car. Molly felt immensely relieved and hoped that Wally hadn’t heard their argument.


	2. Turning Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After storming out of the office, Will headed directly to the men’s room. He splashed cold water on his face. As he looked at himself in the mirror above the sink, he tried to still the thoughts roiling in his brain. His face snapped towards the door when it opened, and Lecter entered. He turned around from the sink to look at him. Will stumbled backwards, stopping when his back hit the wall. Will’s heart raced as Lecter wordlessly walked over to him, graceful but somehow predatory. Will couldn’t make himself break eye contact, desperately searching Lecter’s gaze, trying to intuit his intent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal still have their day of adventure with the Minnesota Shrike, but things take a different turn at the Hobbs' household.

Jack, what a surprise, interrupted Will’s drive into Quantico to teach his classes. His actual job. They’d found another girl. He would now be heading out to Minnesota to a crime scene. He called Molly and was relieved when she didn’t pick up. He left her a message to let her know that he would be going out of state. He decided against going home to pack. If he had to stay overnight, he could just wear the same clothes. He did, however, need to cover his classes which meant calling Alana. Fucking great.

Alana picked up after two rings, undoubtedly expecting him to be falling apart.

“Will?”

God, how did she put so much smothering caring in one word? Will fought back the sigh of exasperation that tried to escape him. As he spoke, he fought to keep the anger out of his voice, “Hi, Alana, Jack just called me, and I am leaving immediately for Minnesota. Another body dropped.”

Before he could ask her to take over his classes, she interrupted, “Do you think that’s a good idea, Will?”

Will slammed an open palm into the steering wheel before responding, “Yes, I do, despite what you and Molly think.”

Alana was quiet for a moment before responding, “Will, I know this must seem like a betrayal to you, but Molly and I were just both afraid—”

“No, just stop. It doesn’t seem like a betrayal, it is one. Just like sending your former mentor to profile me.”

“That’s not what happened. Jack was concerned and he asked for a recommendation for someone to—"

Will’s voice dripped with disdain as he interrupted her again, “And who put that concern into his head?”

Alana was quiet, so Will pushed on, “Can you take over my classes until I’m back, Alana? Or do I need to find someone else or cancel? It would be a shame to deprive all those fine young minds.”

“Yes, Will. I can do that.”

After a curt goodbye, he hung up and promptly dry swallowed two aspirins. His head ached to the point of nausea and he still had to book his flight and get out to the airport.

Will arrived at the crime scene, irritable after a packed flight and long drive to the middle of nowhere. When he looked at the body, he shivered. He knew instantly that it wasn’t the same killer. It was beautiful but brutal at the same time. Strangely elegant. He desperately didn’t want to step into this murderer’s mind. He feared that he would lose himself completely in the killer’s thinking. Or find a part of himself that he didn’t want to know was there.

His annoyance with Jack flared within minutes. He had to patiently explain to the senior investigator that this murder was committed by a copycat and then give a description of said copycat. He tried to stuff down the anger that he felt towards Jack’s obtuseness. Unable to control it completely, he left with a snarky dig at Jack, “Have Dr. Lecter draw up a psychological profile. You seemed very impressed with his opinion.”

Will skipped dinner that night, electing to pick up a pint of bourbon instead. After drinking half of it, he started to undress for bed. He was going to have to wear the same underwear tomorrow, so he opted to sleep nude which always made him feel uncomfortable. After he and Molly would make love, he would pull on his boxers and undershirt as soon as he tactfully could. Sometimes not so tactfully. Sleep was elusive that night as always. He finally fell asleep after restless hours of reliving the latest murder over and over again. Always, from the copycat’s point of view.

He woke up with a jolt in the morning. He thought it was morning, he couldn’t tell for sure with the blackout curtains drawn. His usual nightmare had again been replaced with another dream about Lecter. Will felt a flood of shame as he looked down at the erection that he was sporting. At least he’d be spared imagining the motel maid’s disgust was she changed his soiled sheets. He stumbled to the bathroom to shower, hoping that the cold water would take care of his hard-on. It didn’t.

He gave in and turned the hot water up. He started to stroke himself, visualizing the last time he and had Molly had been intimate, nearly two months ago. Wally’s own recent restless sleeping habits provided an easy excuse for him to gently repulse Molly’s increasingly tentative sexual overtures. She’d stop initiating completely after a month of Will’s refusals. Their last encounter had been tender and sweet, but he’d been unable to maintain eye contact, her gaze threatening his fragile erection. His focus, unbidden, now started to slip back to the dream that woke him.

It began with a replay of the meeting in Jack’s office when he realized Lecter was profiling him for Jack. After storming out of the office, Will headed directly to the men’s room. He splashed cold water on his face. As he looked at himself in the mirror above the sink, he tried to still the thoughts roiling in his brain. His face snapped towards the door when it opened, and Lecter entered. He turned around from the sink to look at him. Will stumbled backwards, stopping when his back hit the wall. Will’s heart raced as Lecter wordlessly walked over to him, graceful but somehow predatory. Will couldn’t make himself break eye contact, desperately searching Lecter’s gaze, trying to intuit his intent.

Without a word, the psychiatrist dropped to his knees in front of Will, not doubt dirtying the knees of his immaculately tailored suit. Will was breathing heavily now, his heart rabbited in his chest. He whined as Lecter slowly unzipped Will’s trousers. Lecter slipped off Will’s trousers and boxers. Then he gently took Will’s painfully hard cock into his mouth. He pressed Will’s hips against the wall with powerful hands, pinning Will so that he can’t move. Will made no attempt to escape as the doctor began to lick him with meticulous precision. When he realized the agent wasn’t going anywhere, one of Lecter’s hands glided down from Will’s hip. Will groaned loudly as Lecter applied pressure to his perineum with his fingers as he changed from licking to sucking. Just the right amount of suction. Will looked down and Lecter locked eyes with him. He could feel Lecter’s arousal from pleasuring him.

Will’s gaze shifted down to Lecter’s crotch; he could see the outline of his fully erect cock straining against the fine material of his trousers. Pre-ejaculate began to stain them. He could hear groans coming from Lecter. Their sound was muffled by Will’s cock. He watched, fascinated, as Lecter climaxed a few moments, staining his trousers. Lecter kept going. The profiler’s eyes moved back to Lecter’s. Will’s legs trembled as his body tightened more and more. God, it was good. It was perfect. His eyes closed as he focused on his almost painful ascent towards release. Will came in the doctor’s mouth with a guttural cry.

Will’s eyes shot open and he was back in the motel shower. He scrubbed his hand and stomach roughly with a washcloth. He watched his semen slip down the drain. He braced himself against the all with his hands and tilted his head under the spray coming from the shower. He was dizzy and panting. He couldn’t remember the last time he had orgasmed that hard. He wasn’t sure if he ever had. He showered quickly, utilitarian in his movements, avoiding any pleasure to be had as he washed his body.

After toweling off, Will pulled on his boxers and undershirt. Before he could finish dressing, there was a knock on his door. He walked across his still darkened motel room to open it. Dr. Lecter stood there.

When Will opened his door and saw Hannibal, he said nothing. He just stood there silently. Hannibal spoke first, wishing Will a good morning and asking if he could come in. Will responded gruffly in a sleep roughened voice, “Where’s Crawford?”

As when they had met before, Will only made eye contact briefly. His eyes zipped around, scanning the area around and behind Hannibal, as if looking for Crawford anyway.

“Deposed in court. The adventure will be yours and mine today.”

After another moment of awkward silence, Hannibal asked again, “May I come in?” Clearly, Will wasn’t going to invite him. As Hannibal entered and Will stood there unspeaking, he realized that Will evidently also had no plans to get dressed. He also, apparently, didn’t travel with a robe. The empath was practically feral. Hannibal feel pleased with his decision to bring breakfast with him. It was like luring a frightened animal, feeding them to build trust.

As Hannibal laid out their meal, he discreetly scented the room. It smelled slightly of mold, sweat, a truly terrible cologne, faintly of dog and then, Hannibal had to hide a smirk, arousal and release. Solitary, no cheating for Will. He wondered if that was part of the confusion he sensed in Will when he answered the door.

The doctor smiled to himself as he watched the investigator eat the protein scramble laced with the sausage made from Cassie Boyle’s lungs.

Surprisingly, Will managed some rudimentary manners.

“It’s delicious. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“I would apologize for my analytical ambush, but I know I will soon be apologizing again, and you’ll tire of that eventually, so I have to consider using apologies sparingly.”

“Just keep it professional.”

“Or we could socialize like adults, god forbid we become friendly.”

“I don’t find you that interesting.”

“You will.”

Hannibal found it surprisingly simple to manipulate events that day. He didn’t think he’d get a chance to push Will beyond his self-induced boundaries so soon. The way Will quickly deduced the Minnesota Shrike’s identity was breathtaking. As they drove to Garret Jacob Hobbs’ residence, Will dry swallowed a couple of aspirin and called in for backup. When they pulled up to the house, Hannibal felt slightly dismayed by his growing excitement which was distinctly visceral and not intellectual.

Things escalated quickly. They were barely out of the car when a middle age woman stumbled out the house and dropped to the ground. Her throat had been cut. Will quickly crossed the lawn to the door, only stopping momentarily to check on the woman. She was clearly beyond help. In a surprising display of strength, the slender empath broke down the door. Hannibal followed him, stepping around the dying Mrs. Hobbs, not sparing her a glance. All his attention was focused on Will.

As he crossed the threshold, Will drew his gun and identified himself as FBI. He swept the house and seemingly guided by instinct, he headed purposefully towards the kitchen. Hobbs stood behind a kitchen island, his left arm around a young girl’s waist. Presumably the daughter as her father’s victims strongly resembled her. His other arm was wrapped around her collarbones, a knife pressed against her jugular. As soon as Will pointed his gun at him, Hobbs pushed his daughter to the floor. Will pumped nine shots into him in rapid succession. The girl screamed as her father’s body hit the floor. Then she grabbed the fallen knife and lunged at Will. She slashed straight down Will’s face, from below the eye to the chin. Will collapsed to the floor.

Hannibal moved so swiftly that Will could barely register it. As he pounced on the girl, she slashed him across his throat. Hannibal started to bleed but the knife didn’t go in far enough to cause any serious damage or even slow him down. He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head against the base of the kitchen island so hard that her skull cracked. He released her hair and moved over to Will on all fours. He cupped Will’s face and tilted it to examine the wound.

Their eyes locked, Hannibal’s heart hammering in chest. He hadn’t felt this way during a kill since he was 20. Will’s eyes were bright. Neither spoke, only their heavy breathing could be heard as they continued to stare into each other’s eye. When Will looked at Hannibal instead of seeing the blank wall he was accustomed to with the doctor, he was looking into a mirror. Hannibal’s excitement over the kill reflected Will’s. Like Will he was clearly aroused by the other man’s killing. Will knew that he should be ashamed. He wasn’t. He tilted his head, so that his lips brushed against Hannibal’s.

The moment was shattered as the local police stormed into the house; guns raised. One of the officers called for the paramedics as soon as he saw the blood and chaos of the kitchen.


	3. Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But now, his family felt like a painted backdrop. He started when his cell phone rang. He was expecting Jack, or Alana, but it was an unknown number. He answered curtly, “Graham.”  
> “Hello, Will.”  
> Will felt a warmth in his belly rise at the sound of Lecter’s voice.  
> “Hello, Dr. Lecter.”

“Mr. Graham, you were extremely lucky, the wound is mainly superficial. There was little tissue damage.”

Will was reminded of when he was shot down in New Orleans, they said he was lucky then too. The bullet had gone clean through and missed bone and arteries. While he was technically lucky that he hadn’t suffered major damage then or now, being in those situations had hardly been good fortune. They thought they were being comforting.

“You’ll be able to go home tonight. Your wife is on her way. I’ll give her the instructions for caring for your wound.”

“Will it scar?”

“Yes,” the doctor hesitated and then continued, “You work for the FBI, so I am sure that you know, that these kinds of incidents, no matter how justified, can be traumatic.”

“Are you a psychiatrist?”

Flustered, the physician replied, “No, but I have years of ER experience…”

He trailed off, Will’s cold stare silencing him.

The doctor cleared his throat, “We’ll bring your wife to you once she arrives.”

After an awkward silence, he left.

Molly would take care of him. Would Jack? There’d be an inquiry and Alana would pressure Jack to take him out of the field. Molly would push Will to step away from his work with the BAU. Would Jack let him go or find a way to keep him? There would have to be a psych eval before he would be allowed to consult again. More pressing, he and Hannibal would have to give statements. What they said would have serious consequences. Objectively, it had been a clusterfuck. He needed to think.

His reverie was interrupted by Molly rushing into the room. She threw her arms around him and pulled him tight.

“Oh, my sweet man,” her voice hitched when she looked at his face, at the dressing that ran all the way down it, “My god, Will.”

Will laughed self-deprecatingly and gazed down at the floor, “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Not as bad as it looks?” Molly’s voice cracked and her voice raised, “Will, a deranged girl slashed your face open.”

So, Jack told her what happened. Will looked up at here, his blue eyes sincere, while he felt his chest tighten with anger. He spoke softly, “I shot her father, Molly, she was running on instinct.”

Molly let go of him then, stepped back and crossed her arms. “What would have happened if Dr. Lecter hadn’t been there? Where would her instincts have taken her?” Molly’s voice was shaking, and Will could see tears forming in her eyes. “I don’t think that she deserves your empathy.”

With a gentle smile, Will replied “It doesn’t work that way, Molly.”

Molly snapped, “How would I know?”

Will grit his teeth, was she going to do this now? He spoke with a calm at odds with his feelings, “What do you mean?”

Molly couldn’t stop, “The only reason I know about it now, is because Jack wanted to ‘borrow your imagination’. You never talked it about it before. Or your work, Will.”

Will responded in an icy tone, “It’s how my brain is wired and it’s why I am good at profiling. It didn’t have anything to do with us. I don’t talk about my work, because I don’t want it to taint what we have, what you, Wally and I have. I do it to protect you.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

Will stood up looked at his wife, he spoke in a challenging tone, “For fuck’s sake Molly, I shot and killed a man today. His daughter ripped me open with a knife and I watched her die. Can we save the marital drama for another time?”

Molly stared at him for a moment then walked silently to the door. Will followed, concerned. He’d been expecting her to feel ashamed. She wasn’t. She was furious.

The drive home was silent and tense. As soon as they entered the house, Wally jumped up off the couch and ran over to Will to hug him.

“Are you alright, Dad?”

Will looked down at him and squeezed him as he spoke, “I’ll be ok, kid.”

He could feel the tension radiating off Molly, but she turned to her son and asked him in her usual warm voice if he’d help her make dinner. As mother and son busied themselves in the kitchen, Will poured himself three fingers of whiskey, against doctor’s orders, and sat down on the couch. As usual, she was pretending everything was ok. How long had that been the case? How long had she been pretending? Not voicing her concerns? Her anger? Had it always been that way? No, it was good in the beginning. They had been happy, the three of them. Wally and Molly had been everything. The family he never had and always wanted.

But now, his family felt like a painted backdrop. He started when his cell phone rang. He was expecting Jack, or Alana, but it was an unknown number. He answered curtly, “Graham.”

“Hello, Will.”

Will felt a warmth in his belly rise at the sound of Lecter’s voice.

“Hello, Dr. Lecter.”

“Surely Hannibal after today’s events.”

In a teasing tone, Will responded, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call, Hannibal?”

Molly’s eyes caught his, her brow creased.

As Will rose and went to his study, he asked about Hannibal’s injury. He closed the door behind him.

“I will be fine. I am already back home,” Hannibal continued, his voice soft and surprisingly warm, “Am I calling at a bad time, Will? Is your family having dinner?”

“Molly and Walter are making dinner now.”

“Did the hospital give instructions on what you can eat? You know you’ll need to eat soft foods for some time.”

“They gave Molly a packet on follow up care. I think that she and Walter are making mac and cheese.”

Will laughed at the cultured European’s silence.

Hannibal’s voice lowered, “Do I need to come over there and bring you a proper dinner?”

Will inhaled sharply, he exhaled shakily before responding, “Would you?”

“Would you be wearing the same charming ensemble you were this morning?”

Will felt himself stiffening in his pants. He swallowed then spoke, “As much as I am enjoying our banter…”

Hannibal asked with a lilt in his voice, “Are you, Will?”

Will clutched his phone tightly, the way he said his name. God. He responded in a husky tone, “Yes, I am.” Will cleared his throat and continued, “But we need to talk about what happened at the Hobbs’s. We’re both going to need to make statements. I am surprised that Jack didn’t ambush us while we we’re getting stitched up.”

“What are you concerned about in particular, Will? We both acted in self-defense.”

Will laughed harshly and replied, “I shot Hobbs nine time and you bashed his daughter’s head in. Jack is going to have questions.”

There was a slight pause and Hannibal responded, his voice tinged with curiosity, “What do you suggest?”

“We tell Jack basically what happened. Except you grabbed her and simply threw her. Her hitting the island wasn’t intentional. Jack’s not going to want to press you hard on that, he never should have had a civilian in the field. I’m valuable to Jack, so he’s going to want to keep me on the case. I haven’t been active in the field since New Orleans, never for the FBI. So, Jack can blame the shooting on a lack of practice in the intervening years. Not to mention, there’ll be an assumption that I panicked.”

“Why would that be assumed?”

There was a long pause.

“Will?”

Will sighed. He felt a blush rise on face. He pushed himself to speak, “That’s why I quit the force. I froze when my partner and I were apprehending a suspect. He pulled a gun. I couldn’t pull the trigger. I was shot in the shoulder and my partner died.”

Hannibal asked, “Why did you freeze?”

Will countered in a defensive tone, “What do you mean, ‘why’? It’s our biology, if we are in danger—fight, flight or freeze.”

“So, you were afraid that you would be shot? Or of something else?”

Will was silent, his breathing had become rapid and shallow.

Hannibal broke the silence, “You weren’t afraid of being shot, Will. What was it?”

Will kept silent.

Hannibal spoke again, “Today, when you shot Hobbs, how did you feel?”

Will said firmly, “Righteous.”

“What else, Will?”

“I liked it. I liked killing him.”

“Is that what you were afraid of in New Orleans? Were you afraid that you’d enjoy it?”

Will swallowed and spoke so softly that it was almost a whisper, “Yes.”

Hannibal replied silkily, “I enjoyed it too. I enjoyed seeing you take his life. What did you feel when you saw me kill the girl?”

“Aroused.”

“Sexually?”

“Yes.”

“Because of the girl?”

Will looked down at his hand, saw it trembling. His voice was unsteady as he responded, “No. I’m not a sadist. It was you. The way you moved. Your grace. Your ferocity.”

“So, I aroused you.”

“Yes,” answered Will, he looked down at his crotch, his erection bulging, “I’m hard right now, thinking about it. Answering your questions, exposing myself to you the way that you showed yourself to me when you killed her”.

He could hear Hannibal breathing heavily. The doctor was silent, clearly trying to compose himself.

“You don’t like this. You’re used to being in control, manipulating everything and everyone around you, but you’re not now. Not with me.”

Hannibal spoke in his usual detached manner, but his accent was thicker betraying him, “I am in the same predicament as you, Will. What’s to be done about that?”

Will made a soft sound between a groan and a whine. His free hand softly palmed his erection through his jeans as he responded, “Maybe we should discuss this in more detail.”

Will smiled sardonically when he heard Hannibal groan. He lowered his voice, almost growling, “Would you like that Dr. Lecter?”

“You vicious boy.”

Will’s body tingled at the word “boy”. The sound he heard himself let out, close to whimper, shocked him.

Before he could respond. There was a knock at the door and Wally came in without waiting for permission. He smiled at Will and said, “Mom said to get you, dinner’s on the table.”

“Ok, sport, let her know I’ll be there in a minute. I just need to wrap up this call.”

He started to pull his shirt out over his trousers, before he could speak Hannibal did.

“I heard, Will. Your family duty calls. We’ll have to further our discussion another time.”

“I’d like that, Dr. Lecter. Good night.”

“Good night, Will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, my intention with that phone call was for Hannibal and Will to conspire about their story to Jack. Hannibal and Will had other ideas.


	4. Repression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly stared at Will, wide eyed, sweating and panting so hard he was on the verge of hyperventilating. He had nightmares before but nothing like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, so I am posting the next chapter now as well.

Will bolted awake with a scream.

Molly stared at Will, wide eyed, sweating and panting so hard he was on the verge of hyperventilating. He had nightmares before but nothing like this. Molly grabbed him by the arms and shook him, saying in a firm but gentle voice, “Will. Will. It’s ok. You’re awake now. You were just having a nightmare.”

He looked at Molly and nodded. When his breathing finally regulated, he said softly “Sorry, that was a bad one.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, honey,” as Molly spoke, Will held her gaze while he discreetly pulled the blankets over his lap. Molly continued hesitantly, “They’ve been getting worse since,” she paused, “the shooting. I know you think you should go back to work. But it’s only been a week.”

Will smiled tenderly at her and said, “The stitches are out, and the pain is manageable. I can’t put this off forever.”

Molly bit her lip and squeezed Will’s hand. She stared down at their joined hand and spoke carefully, “I am more worried about what is going on inside of you.”

“I’m fine, Molly.”

Molly looked up at him, fire in her eyes. He had spent every evening over the past week, locked in his study looking at case files and drinking. She wanted to scream at him, “No. You haven’t been the same since you started working with Jack Crawford.” But even as she thought it, part of her questioned if he hadn’t always been shutting her out.

Will kissed her on the forehead. He gave her what Molly thought of as his lost puppy face and said, “I think I’d like to take a shower.”

Molly smiled stiffly and said, “I’ll change the sheets while you do that.”

As soon as she left the bedroom to go to the linen closet, Will jumped up out of bed and hurried to their en suite. He locked the door and turned on the shower. He stripped off his underthings quickly and threw them in the hamper. When he stepped into the shower, he remained facing the tiled wall. He leaned on it, bracing himself with his left hand and stuffing a washcloth in his mouth with his right. Then his right hand slid down his body and gripped his erection. He started to jerk off, tears running down his face.


	5. Escalation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I heard footsteps, but they were more like the sound hooves make when a buck is moving slowly. I turned around and there was a creature there. Humanoid, tall, emaciated like someone took a man and stretched him. He was inky black all over as though if you touched him, his skin would be cold and viscous. He had antlers, placed like a moose’s on either side of his forehead, but shaped like a buck’s. They were black too.”
> 
> “He sounds terrifying.”
> 
> Will shook his head and his eye’s met Hannibal’s again. “No, he was beautiful” he replied, his voice cracking.

Jack sat behind his desk, leaning forward with his hands folded on the top of it. Will sat across from him sprawled in an uncomfortable chair, hands gripping the armrests. As he had for the past year, Jack was attempting to dominate him. Will’s resentment rose, not just at Jack’s single mindedness but at his own repeated submission to him. Jack stated, as expected, that in no uncertain terms, he would have to have a psych eval.

Will purposefully avoided eye contact with Jack when he responded, “I told you, Jack, I don’t like psychiatrists fumbling around in my head.”

Jack sighed, “If you want to continue saving lives, you need to do it.”

Will looked down at his feet, feigning an internal struggle. He looked up at Jack and said, “I guess Alana can’t do it?”

“No, Will. She’s never wanted to have you as a patient, she felt a conflict of interest as you’re friends.”

Will hesitated, then asked, “What about Lecter?”

Jack blinked and said in an incredulous tone, “Will, that’s an even bigger conflict of interest, Hannibal was directly involved in the incident,” Jack’s voice rose, “He’s a witness to the shooting and he killed Abigail Hobbs when she attacked you. It was an accident, but what would it look like to an outsider, Will?”

Will locked his jaw to keep from smiling, Hannibal must have been quite convincing. He composed his face into a stubborn glower, “I trust him. He’s the only one I’ll talk to.”

Jack replied exasperatedly, “A week ago, you were furious with me when you thought I’d brought him in to profile you.”

Will replied petulantly, “You did bring him in to profile me and I was angry with both of you. But his insights into the Minnesota Shrike’s motives were perceptive. And more importantly, right.”

Jack snorted angrily. He tried to stare down the profiler, but Will just fiddled with his glasses and remained silent. Finally, Jack sighed resignedly and said, “OK, Will, but it’s not enough to have Hannibal do the psych eval, you’ll need to have weekly sessions with him. Alana’s right, you need ongoing psychological support if you are going to continue consulting. Kate Purnell will be easier to manage if she knows you’re in therapy. The Hobbs incident was bad enough but when the Lounds’ article hit, she exploded.”

“Freddie always sensationalizes everything, why would Purnell care what she wrote?” Will’s inflection on Freddie’s name was venomous.

Jack leaned back and folded his hands in his lap. When he spoke, his tone was friendly but no no-nonsense, “The article was a hatchet job on you and the FBI. She said outright that you can think like serial killers because you are a psychopath. She also questioned Dr. Lecter’s presence at the scene and if the FBI had brought him in as your handler. She accused the FBI of recklessly endangering the lives of citizens by letting someone into the field that they found too unstable to become an agent. Purnell is concerned about your reputation inside the FBI as well as with the general public.”

Will sat in stony silence; his jaw muscle twitched. He stood up and said to Jack in a tight voice, “I’ll get in touch with Dr. Lecter and set up an appointment.

Jack started to talk, “Will.”

Will just shook his head and interrupted, “No, Jack. There’s nothing else to say.”

Will didn’t have time after his last class to drive home to Wolf Trap, so he stopped at McDonald's for dinner and to peruse Freddie’s article. Even worse than being pilloried by a hack, clearly someone at the FBI was feeding her information.

When he got back into his car to drive to Hannibal’s, he dry swallowed two aspirins. While he drove, he called Molly to let her know that he’d be home late. He didn’t tell her about the appointment. She sounded distant, he wondered if she’d seen the TattleCrime article. Will thought about Wally, his schoolmates would absolutely be talking about his “unstable” stepfather. So, undoubtedly Wally had read it. And, realistically, how could Molly resist the temptation of opening a door into Will’s psyche? Regardless of Freddie’s unethical brand of journalism.

Will arrived at Hannibal’s office on time for their appointment. The older man greeted him warmly and showed him into his office. Will dropped his coat and messenger back on the couch and took a seat in one of the doctor’s chairs. Hannibal went over to a cabinet and opened it revealing decanters and crystal cut glassware. “Would you like a drink, Will?”

Will looked up a through his lashes at Hannibal and asked, “A little unorthodox, don’t you think, Doctor?”

Hannibal smiled and brought a glass with three fingers of whiskey over to him.

Will took a sip and cocked his head as he said, “This is excellent. Probably wasted on me.”

Hannibal placed his drink on the table next to his chair. He sat down, back straight, and crossed his legs elegantly. He took a drink and then spoke, “It is not wasted if you appreciate it.”

Will pushed back into his chair, slightly slouched, his legs parted. He changed the subject, “Did Crawford talk to you?”

“About the Hobbs’ incident?”

Will snorted and then spoke, “I already know that he talked to you about the Hobbs’ fiasco. You know what I mean. “

Hannibal’s lips twitched before he replied, “Yes. Jack feels that we should continue to meet after I clear you for duty.”

Will grinned, “I assume Jack expected you to rubber-stamp me in our first session.”

“During our only session.”

“Our only session?”

“He would prefer for our meetings to be unofficial.”

“The FBI doesn’t want to pay for my therapy? Understandable, I’m sure you’re quite expensive.”

Hannibal arched an eyebrow and Will responded honestly this time with some anger in his tone, “No patient doctor confidentiality. Jack wants you to be his spy.”

“That is his plan. Regardless, I would never tell him anything that you didn’t wish for him to know. What do you want, Will? Shall I be your doctor or your friend?”

Will looked down and swallowed. He looked back up and directly into Hannibal’s eyes as he spoke in a tight voice, “I don’t think you can be either.”

Hannibal asked Will softly, “Then what can I be to you?”

Will flushed and said in a voice edging on hoarse, “I’m not sure.”

Hannibal’s tongue darted quickly between his lips. He looked down at his hands. After a moment, he looked by up at Will and asked caringly, “You look exhausted, Will. Did you sleep at all last night?”

Will shifted in his seat and said off offhandedly, “I slept eventually. I had a nightmare.”

“What about?”

Will fidgeted with his glasses and said, “I don’t remember, you know how dreams are.”

Hannibal did not respond, instead he got out of his chair and walked over to the profiler. He dropped on his knees in between Will’s legs. When he smelt Will’s fear and arousal, he took a moment to savor it. Then he reached up and removed Will’s glasses. He folded them neatly and put them on the table next to Will’s chair, alongside his glass. Hannibal looked up at Will and said softly, “You don’t have to hide from me, Will.”

Will looked down into Hannibal’s eyes and in a shaky voice started to tell him about his dream, “I was in my stream.” Hannibal looked at him questioningly. Will explained, “When I need to escape from what is going around me, I go there in my mind. It’s a quiet stream in the woods. I fly fish there.”

“Does anyone ever join you?”

“No never,” Will hesitated, he cast his eyes down to Hannibal’s paisley tie and continued, “but this time everything was different. It was night and I could feel the presence of something.”

Hannibal said nothing. He just starred up at Will, fascinated.

“I heard footsteps, but they were more like the sound hooves make when a buck is moving slowly. I turned around and there was a creature there. Humanoid, tall, emaciated like someone took a man and stretched him. He was inky black all over as though if you touched him, his skin would be cold and viscous. He had antlers, placed like a moose’s on either side of his forehead, but shaped like a buck’s. They were black too.”

“He sounds terrifying.”

Will shook his head and his eye’s met Hannibal’s again. “No, he was beautiful” he replied, his voice cracking.

Hannibal asked gently, his voice almost hypnotic, “What did you do, Will? Did you run away?”

“No,” Will continued, a fine trembling to his voice, “I went to him. I put my hand to his chest to see if he had a heartbeat.”

“Did he?”

“Yes, his heart raced under my palm. I think he was afraid.”

Hannibal’s eye’s shifted down to Will’s lips. He was quiet. Then he looked back up into Will’s eyes and asked, “Did you kill him, Will?”

“No. I put my hands on either side of his face and pulled him down. I kissed him.”

Hannibal inhaled sharply. His eyes were burning.

“He,” Will licked his lips and continued, his breath becoming labored, “He broke away from me and turned around. I thought he was going to leave, but he didn’t. He got down on all fours in front of me.”

Hannibal’s breathing accelerated. His voice was raw now as he asked, “What did you do?”

“I mounted him,” Will was shaking, as he continued, “it felt incredible. I couldn’t stop--stop,” he broke off for a moment. He couldn’t say it out loud that he was mating with it. He swallowed and continue, “Then there was this overwhelming pain coming from between my shoulders. I could hear my flesh tearing, and enormous antlers pushed out of my body. I felt like I was being ripped apart. It hurt so much, Hannibal.”

They were silent. Then Will leaned forward and tentatively pressed his lips against Hannibal’s. Hannibal kissed him back. The strangeness of kissing a man faded as Will’s desire overtook him. He ran the tip of his tongue along the seam between Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal gave out a muffled moan and Will pushed his tongue into his mouth. He grasped him by the shoulders and pushed him to the ground. Will pinned him to the floor his knees on either side of Hannibal’s waist. Hannibal snaked a hand into Will’s curls and the other gripped Will’s waist, pulling him tightly against him. Their kissing soon crossed from passionate to frenzied. Will broke their kiss and pressed his forehead to Hannibal’s; he whispered hoarsely, “What is happening to me?”

Hannibal replied breathily, “Us, to us.”

Will started kissing him again as he clumsily unbuttoned the older man’s waistcoat with trembling hands. Hannibal’s cellphone started ringing. They only paused for a moment. The phone stopped ringing. Will started to unbutton Hannibal’s shirt while Hannibal pulled Will’s shirt out of his trousers and shoved his hand underneath his undershirt. Will moaned when he felt Hannibal’s hand gliding over the skin of his back.

Hannibal’s landline rang.

“God damn it!”

“Will, don’t stop.”

Will clumsily rolled off Hannibal and panted out, “You have to get that. It’s Jack Crawford.”

Hannibal stood up and walked unsteadily to his desk and reached out to his phone. He managed to pick up the handset on the fifth ring.

“Good evening, Dr. Hannibal Lecter speaking.”

“Hello, Jack.”

“Yes, Jack, you can come over. I was just writing up my patient notes. When do you think you will arrive?”

“Yes, that’s fine, Jack. I’ll see you shortly.”

Hannibal said good-bye and hung up the phone a little harder than strictly necessary. He smoothed his hair back into place.

He looked at Will who was attempting to tame his hair with his hands. It appeared to be going about as well as his efforts at tucking in his shirt had. Hannibal grimaced at the material bunching slightly over Will’s belt. He asked him, “How did you know it was Jack Crawford?”

“He’s the only person I know that would call someone’s cell and then their landline directly afterwards. He’s going to be here in fifteen minutes, isn’t he?”

Hannibal gave him a sly smile and responded, “Twenty.”

Will returned the smile and said, “He was already on his way when he called. You’re lucky, he usually just barges into wherever I am.”

Hannibal frowned and said, “You shouldn’t tolerate that behavior from Jack.”

Will scoffed but said nothing. Hannibal moved in front of him, standing too close. He undid Will’s belt and unbuttoned the top of Will’s trousers. The sound of Will’s shaky exhale made him smile smugly. Will’s body tensed when he unzipped his fly halfway. His hands moved to raise up Will’s shirt. He then pulled Will’s undershirt down neatly into his trousers and then Will’s shirt. He zipped up his pants and buttoned them. He buckled his belt. Will stood still, not moving or saying anything.

Hannibal picked up Will’s glasses and put them back on him tenderly. He collected Will’s things from the couch. He helped him on with his coat and ran his hands down the sleeves from the shoulder to the cuffs, smoothing out creases that weren’t there. He turned Will around and buttoned the coat up all the way to the collar. He murmured, “You should be wearing a scarf in this weather, Will.”

Instead of handing Will his messenger bag, he hung it on the younger man himself. He straightened the strap where it ran across Will’s chest. He looked at him approvingly, “There. You’re ready to go home now.”

Will lifted his hands and put them on either side of Hannibal’s face. He pressed his forehead to Hannibal’s and whispered, “Thank you.”

Hannibal fell silent as Will left his office. When the sound of his front door shutting reached him, he seemed to come back to himself. The doctor picked up the used glasses from the tables and put them away in the cabinet. When he scanned the room, nothing else was out of place. He looked down at his disheveled clothes with a moue and carefully buttoned up his shirt and waistcoat. He grimaced at the sight of the bulge in his trousers. There was no time to do anything about it. He positioned himself behind his desk and slid the top desk drawer open to pull out a leather-bound notebook, a fountain pen and a scalpel that he used for sharpening his drawing pencils. He opened the notebook and tucked the scalpel neatly under it. He started writing up his notes on Will, the ones he designed for Jack’s benefit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear not every single character in this story is going to have a moment where they cockblock Will and Hannibal.


	6. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he kissed Hannibal, he felt a level of desire that he’d never experienced before. His attraction towards others had always been muted and often more of a reflection of the other person’s wants. This was different, it was coming from inside of him and it was powerful.

Jack stopped and hung up his hat, scarf and coat on his way into Hannibal’s office. As he entered, Hannibal looked up from his notebook, and said, “Good evening, Jack,” he gestured to the chair opposite of his desk, “Please have a seat.”

Jack sat down and looked at Hannibal, distinctly uncomfortable. Hannibal looked at him intently and broke the silence, “What can I do for you, Jack? If this is about Will, I have already completed his paperwork. He can resume fieldwork.”

Jack shifted in his seat and cleared his throat before speaking, “It isn’t about Will. Well, it is but not in that way.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at Jack’s out of character reticence.

Jack shifted again and said, “It’s about DNA evidence that we found at the scene.”

Hannibal’s fingers slid discreetly under his notebook and rested on the scalpel there. He’d always been meticulous when creating his art, but it was always within the realm of possibility that he could have left a trace behind.

Jack hesitated; Hannibal could smell anxiety but no fear. Jack continued, “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it.”

Hannibal gripped the scalpel as Jack took a deep breath. Jack exhaled and said, “Yours and Will’s DNA, it showed that Will’s your son.”

Jack looked at Hannibal, his face was blank. That wasn’t the reaction Jack was expecting.

“Will’s my son?’

“Yes.”

“Jack, how old is Will?”

“36.”

“I was 18 the year Will was born; I was still living in France.”

“Hannibal, we looked at more than one set of samples. The chain of custody for the evidence was impeccable. There’s no doubt.”

Hannibal’s fingers withdrew from the scalpel. He rested his elbows on his chair’s armrests and steepled his hands in front of his chest. He asked Jack in his usual composed manner, “Have you told Will?”

Jack shook his head, “I wanted to tell your first.”

“Why?”

“I needed to see how you would react. To put it bluntly, Hannibal, you are wealthy, and I was afraid that you would be worried about Will making some kind of claim on you. I need to know what to expect from you in terms of Will. He’s grown to trust you in a remarkably short time. Will needs someone he can trust.”

“I am not worried that Will would make any demands on me. Quite the opposite, I fear that he will withdraw from me completely.”

Hannibal got up from his chair with that and said to Jack, “Would you like a drink?”

“Bourbon if you have it.”

Hannibal went to the cabinet and poured two drinks. He drank half of his and refilled it before returning to his desk. He handed Jack’s his drink before resuming his seat behind his desk.

“Hannibal, you were saying,” prompted Jack.

“I am far more concerned about Will. While I am surprised that circumstances brought me together with an adult illegitimate son; by the time I was 18, I had already had many lovers, and these things happen. But Will has only ever had one father. He, in a way, has lost a parent and, to a great extent, his identity.”

“So, you don’t think that he already knows that his father isn’t his biological parent?”

“Parents often lie in these circumstances in a mistaken belief that they are protecting the child. Alana had confided in me that Will’s mother left him when he was quite young. Will appears fragile, as I am sure he did as a child as well. So, Mr. Graham had even more of a reason to conceal the truth—to take away both of Will’s parents could have devastated the boy. You must assume that he has no idea when you break the news. And, you should tell him tonight, Jack.”

“Why tonight?”

“I read TattleCrime. Clearly, someone at the FBI, probably on your team, is feeding information about Will to Ms. Lounds. This will be traumatic enough for Will without reading about it there first.”

Jack drained his drink in silence. He put his empty glass down on Hannibal’s desk. Hannibal’s eyes glanced down at the ring forming on the wood. He kept the annoyance from his face.

Jack stood up and as he reached out to shake Hannibal’s hand, he said, “Thank you, Hannibal.”

After Jack left, Hannibal picked up Jack’s used glass and scowled at the ring. He took the glasses back to the cabinet. He poured himself a brandy and picked up a soft cloth. He wiped up the condensation from Jack’s glass with it. He would have to treat the ring properly tomorrow. Hannibal sat down in one of his armchairs and dropped the cloth on the table next to him. After taking a long drink from his glass, he placed it by the cloth. He settled back in his seat, closed his eyes and entered his memory palace.

He walked down a series of corridors to his time in France and found the door he was looking for. Crossing the threshold, he found himself in a bustling Parisian café. He took his seat at a table filled with his fellow students engaged in lively conversation. A small group of young American women entered the café and found a table large enough to accommodate them. When a waiter arrived at their table, all the girls looked expectantly at the same companion. She spoke in fluent but strangely accented French, ordering a bottle of wine. Hannibal admired her profile. She seemed to sense his gaze and turned towards him with a soft smile. Her eyes were exceptional—wide, blue and fringed with dark lashes.

Hannibal opened his eyes and smiled. Will’s eyes. He felt a frisson of excitement. Will was _his_.

Will’s mind drifted away from warm happiness to confusion once he started driving home to Wolf Trap. Suddenly, he ached for his old home there, to lay on the mattress in his living room surrounded by nothing but his pack. His home with Molly and Walt was much larger, a two-story cabin with plenty of room for his dogs and a preteen boy. He always had his study to retreat into, but it wasn’t the same. He so desperately wanted to be alone now, to have the time to understand what was going on between him and Hannibal.

His head started to ache, and he dry swallowed a couple of aspirin. He wanted to stop in a bar and drink himself into oblivion. But what would he tell Molly when she picked him up again too drunk to drive? God, Molly. Walter. What the fuck was he thinking? When he was with Hannibal, everything else fell away. He felt open with him, unafraid of being judged. It was a relief, almost comforting, except for the almost unbearable excitement of being near him. When he kissed Hannibal, he felt a level of desire that he’d never experienced before. His attraction towards others had always been muted and often more of a reflection of the other person’s wants. This was different, it was coming from inside of him and it was powerful. He was straight. He was married. But none of that mattered. He felt Hannibal’s darkness rushing towards his own and he wanted to drown in it.

Jack gripped his steering wheel tightly as he drove from Hannibal’s office to Will’s home. He called Bella to let her know that he would be late. They discussed the whole mess about Will and Hannibal at length. Bella cautioned him to be kind with Will, that this would be traumatic for him and the Hobbs’ shooting had only been a week ago. She was right, Bella was always right. But he knew himself, his interest in handling this the “right” way was because he needed Will. They would never catch the Chesapeake Ripper without him. Will’s insights into the Ripper’s kills over the past year had been remarkable. They hadn’t found him, but they had learned more about him since Will joined them than they had in all the years he had been active. He needed Will’s head in the game.

Molly started when the door opened. She and Wally looked up from their jigsaw puzzle to greet Will. He said hello back, not making eye contact. She asked, “Do you need dinner, Will? I have a plate for you in the oven.”

Will looked at her and swallowed, and shook his head as he said, “No, I ate McDonald's. I’m going to my study; I have case files to go over.”

“OK, don’t stay up too late.” Don’t drink too much. Don’t get falling down drunk and wake my son up.

Will nodded and went to his office, not even taking off his coat. Molly wondered if he’d already been drinking, he was radiating guilt.

Molly smiled at Wally and asked, “Do you want some hot chocolate while we finish up this beast?”

Will threw his coat on the leather love seat in his study. He sat down behind his desk and pulled a glass and a bottle from his bottom drawer. He poured himself well over three fingers of bourbon. He took a long drink and grabbed the case files from the copycat killing and the most recent sounder of Ripper murders. He absorbed himself in his work, blocking out thoughts of Hannibal.

Molly pushed Will out of her mind and concentrated on her son. They talked about school, the video games he was playing and strategizing his training this fall and winter for baseball tryouts in the spring. They were most of their way through their jigsaw puzzle when a knock on the door startled them.

“Was Dad expecting someone?”

“I don’t think so, hon.”

Molly answered the door and a let out a sound of surprise when she saw Jack Crawford standing on their porch. He took off his hat before he spoke, “Good evening, Molly. Is Will in?”

Molly replied, “Of course,” as she let Jack in. Jack was quiet as he carefully hung his things up on the peg coat rack that Will had built.

Molly was taken aback by Jack’s quiet demeanor. He was usually, well, domineering. She gestured towards the door of Will’s study, “He’s working.”

Jack nodded and strode over to the door and knocked. He heard Will’s voice faintly, “Come in.”

Will looked taken aback when he saw Jack come through the door. His brow wrinkled as he said, “I didn’t hear you come into the house.”

When he realized Will wasn’t going to invite him to take a seat, he sat down on the loveseat next to Will’s coat.

Will turned his chair around to face him and asked him gruffly, “What are you doing here, Jack? You know I like to keep my work and family life separate.”

Jack restrained himself from pointing out that Will’s desk was currently overrun with crime scene photos of Ripper kills. He reminded himself of Bella’s advice and attempted to sound warm as he said, “There’s something I need to tell you regarding the evidence at the Hobbs’ house.”

Will drew back in his chair, his face guarded, but didn’t say anything, clearly waiting for Jack to continue. Jack wondered if it was his words or his tone of voice that was making Will wary. As usual, Bella gave great advice to Jack about handling people and as usual he failed at it.

Jack cleared his voice and continued, “It’s about the DNA evidence. Samples, of course, were taken at the scene and we found a peculiarity.”

“A peculiarity?”

“Yes.”

Will rolled his eyes and said in an exasperated tone, “When I asked that, I meant what was the peculiarity, Jack?”

Jack gritted his teeth, God, the boy was sassy. He exhaled through his nose and spoke in his more usual authoritative tone, “I need you to prepare yourself.”

Will quirked an eyebrow and asked archly, “Do I need a drink?”

Jack replied in a serious tone, “Yes.”

“Do I need a lawyer?”

“What?” Jack shook his head, “No, it’s nothing like that. I think we should both have a drink.”

Will pulled a second glass out of his bottom drawer and poured them both a drink.

Jack gulped down half of his in one go. He stared at his glass for a moment then looked up at Will. He took a deep breath and said, “There was a match between yours and Lecter’s DNA.”

Will frowned, “What do you mean a match? To another crime scene?”

“No, no. To each other.”

Will looked even more confused and snapped, “What do you mean ‘to each other’?”

“He’s your father, Will.”

Will burst out laughing. He started to speak, “Jesus, Jack, is this some kind of…” He trailed off when he saw Jack’s face. He stuttered out, “Jack, that’s fucking impossible.”

Jack looked down at his hands for a moment. He got up and squeezed Will’s shoulder and said softly, “I’m sorry, Will.”

Will shook off Jack’s hand. He looked up at him and said defiantly, “No, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Will, I think you should call your Dad and ask him about it.”

Will replied quietly, “Get out, Jack.”

Will buried his head in hands, gripping his hair tightly. He barely registered the sound of his study door shutting. After a few minutes, he raised his head up out of his hands and picked his cell phone up off his desk. His Dad picked up after three rings.

“Graham.”

Will smiled at the gruff greeting, just like his, “Hi, Dad.”

“Is everything ok, Will? Molly told me what happened last week.”

Will went silent.

“Son?”

Will forced himself to respond, “Dad, look something came up about DNA when they were investigating the scene.”

“You’re not in any kind of trouble over the shooting, are you?”

“No, it was ruled as justified. It’s about me and a colleague,” Will let out a shaky breath, “Dad, they’re saying he’s my biological father.”

He heard his father sigh before he asked quietly, “Is he Lithuanian?”

Will bit his lip hard enough that it bled.

“Will?”

Will pressed a finger to his lip and stared at the blood on his finger. He responded quietly, “Yes, he is, Dad.”

“I’m so sorry that you had to find out this way. Your mom and I agreed not to tell you. After, she left, it seemed like the best thing to do. I was afraid that you’d be taken from me. By the time you grew up, it seemed too late to tell you.”

Will stood up and started pacing as he asked, “What happened?”

“Your mother’s folks weren’t fond of me. When we graduated from high school, they gave your mother the money to join a group of her girlfriends that were going to Europe for the summer. I think they were hoping if she saw a bit of the world, she’d find me lacking. I was foolish about it. I tried to force her not to go. So, she broke up with me and went. When she came home, we made up. Then she found out she was pregnant, she assured me that she had no interest in the father. It was just a brief fling. We decided to get married and raise you as mine.”

“Oh, God.”

“Will, I love you. The commitment I made to raise you didn’t leave with her. You will always be my son.”

“I love you too, Dad. I just wish I had known before this.”

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just a shock. I need to go now. “

“OK, son, tell Molly and Wally that I love them.”

Will dropped his phone when his father hung up. He thought about Hannibal, his mouth on his, his hands on his body. God. God. God. He felt his breathing speeding up to the point where he was gasping. His heart was thundering. He had to breathe, he had to breathe, or he was going to pass out. He concentrated on regulating his breathing. Forcibly pulling his breath into his lungs and exhaling completely. The pace of his breathing gradually slowed down. His heartbeat was still rapid, but not like before. He sat down on the floor with his back against the love seat. He pulled his knees up and pressed his thighs tightly against his chest and bowed his head. He put his hands up to his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn’t hear the knocking on his door or Molly calling his name. He didn’t hear her come in or her gasp when she found him sitting on the floor. Will finally became aware of her when she was prying his hands off his ears. She kept saying his name until he opened his eyes and looked at her.

She asked him, “Will, what is it? What’s going on?”

He stared blankly at her, saying nothing and shaking uncontrollably. Molly pulled him to her and started rocking him, stroking him and assuring him everything would be OK.


	7. Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal moved, so that he stood a few inches in front of Will. He ran a thumb tenderly over one of the dark circles under Will’s eyes. He asked in a low voice, “Did you sleep at all last night?”
> 
> Will pushed Hannibal’s hand away gently as he responded, “No.” Will’s gaze dropped to the Windsor knot in Hannibal’s blood orange tie. Hannibal reached out to Will again, tipping his chin back up with two fingers. He dropped them as soon as Will’s gaze met his. Speaking in a firm tone, he said, “William, we have to speak.”

Hannibal took a moment to savor the aroma of his coffee before taking his first sip. He slathered a croissant with jam and began to read TattleCrime on his iPad. Normally, he would never do so while eating, but he was sure that someone in the Graham family would and he wanted to be prepared for Will reaching out to him. Before he could read past the first paragraph, his cell phone rang. A tremor of excitement ran through him at the thought of Will needing him. He felt both disappointment and annoyance when he saw that it was Alana. He debated whether to let it go to voicemail. But she would just call back on the hour if he didn’t answer. He composed his face to one of friendliness and picked up on the fourth ring.

“Good morning, Alana.”

“Hello, Hannibal. Have you read TattleCrime this morning?”

Hannibal frowned slightly at Alana’s discourtesy, no apology for calling so early or an enquiry about his well-being.

“I am ashamed to admit that I have.”

“Did you see Freddie’s article about you and Will?”

“I was barely through the lede when you called.”

Alana, outrage in her tone, replied, “I thought that would be enough to upset you. She’s attacked Will repeatedly with wild speculations, but this is beyond the pale. He should sue her for libel.”

“Alana, someone cannot be sued for libel when they have written the truth,” responded Hannibal smoothly.

There was more than a moment of silence. Hannibal smirked as he asked with a tinge of concern in his voice, “Are you still there, Alana?”

Alana asked, shock clear in her voice, “You’re Will’s father?”

“Yes, what Ms. Lounds reported was true, I am Will’s biological father. The implication of how she managed to obtain information from an active FBI investigation is most concerning.”

Alana let out an exasperated huff and said tersely, “That’s what’s concerning to you? What about Will? When Jack spoke to me about having you clear Will for duty and take him on as a patient, I felt it was unethical, since you were directly involved in the Hobbs’ incident. But I know Will and how impossible it is to persuade him to see a therapist and he actually wanted you, so, I agreed that it was the best course of action. Clearly, we’ll have to find him a referral.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Hannibal, how can you even—” Alana interrupted herself, “There is absolutely no way that Will can be your patient.”

“Will and I have already decided not to have therapy sessions but rather to have conversations.”

Alana’s voice rose as she sputtered out, “It doesn’t matter what the two of you decide to call it, it is a therapeutic relationship.”

Hannibal remained calm, infuriatingly so to Alana’s thinking, “You talk to Will and you are a psychiatrist. Why is it different for me?”

“I am not engaging in a therapeutic relationship with him.”

Hannibal smiled to himself and said, “Are you not? You told me that you steered away from a romantic relationship with Will in the past because you realized that you wouldn’t be able to turn off your desire to psychoanalyze and help him. But you have repeatedly in the past year advised Jack that Will is not stable enough to work in the field. You have even conversed with his wife about your concerns without informing him. I think you would be better served reflecting on your own ethics, as well as your motivations, regarding your interference in Will’s life.”

Alana was stunned into silence.

Hannibal, who had maintained the same warm tone throughout the conversation, continued courteously, “Alana, if that is all you have to say, I will bid you adieu. I still need to dress for work.”

Alana mumbled a good-bye and hung up.

Hannibal smiled to himself as he went upstairs, the grey and blue windowpane today.

Will opened his eyes and blinked a few times, the pale sunlight in his and Molly’s bedroom aggravating his blossoming headache. He rolled on his side away from the window, no Molly. He felt exhausted. He had slept fitfully, the past few weeks’ events playing on an endless loop in his head. The door opened softly, and he looked up at Molly, so sweet and lovely holding a cup of coffee for him. Will propped a couple of pillows against the headboard and sat up, leaning his back against them.

Molly sat on the bed next to him and handed him the coffee. He took it and smiled his thanks. After he took a couple of swallows, he said, “You must have some questions.”

Molly leaned over to kiss his forehead and then resumed her place by his side. She replied, “You can tell me what happened with Jack if you’re ready.”

Will took a deep breath and exhaled. He looked at her and started to speak but was interrupted when their bedroom door flew open and Wally ran in, phone in hand. Molly was about to admonish him for not knocking first, she stopped herself when she saw his agitation. It hadn’t mattered in a while anyway.

“Dad, John texted me a link to TattleCrime,” the words came tumbling out of Wally, so rushed that they were barely intelligible “It says that Grandpa Graham isn’t really your father. Who’s this Hannibal Lecter guy? Is it true that he was there when you shot Jacob Garrett Hobbs? Did he really kill that girl?”

Will took a long, steadying breath. Fucking Freddie Lounds. He looked up at Wally, saw his confusion, but worse his doubt. He didn’t dare look over at Molly. Will replied calmly, “Yes, sport, Doctor Lecter is my biological father, but my dad is still my dad. He’s the only one that ever will be. I only found out last night from Jack Crawford. Doctor Lecter did kill Abigail Hobbs, but it was an accident. She was coming at me with a knife, he grabbed her, and, in the struggle, she hit her head and it killed her.”

Will focused his attention completely on his stepson, the boy was warring over believing him. He wanted to but he didn’t fully trust him. Will felt chilled when he realized that this wasn’t new. Wally had never really trusted him, even before he started working for Jack, when Will started withdrawing from Molly and from him. Will held out his hand towards Wally, gesturing at the phone. Wally brought it over to Will and handed it to him without speaking.

Will’s jaw tightened when he read the headline, **The Family That Slays Together Stays Together**. It went downhill from there.

“Sources in the FBI disclosed to this reporter that DNA taken from the blood-soaked home of accused murderer and cannibal, Jacob Garrett Hobbs proves the FBI’s pet psychopath, profiler Will Graham, is the biological son of one Dr. Hannibal Lecter. The good doctor, a psychiatrist, was brought in by the BAU’s Agent-in-Charge Jack Crawford, who has made questionable choices in the past, as a kind of handler for Graham. According to one source, a colleague of both Dr. Lecter’s and Crawford’s suggested that Graham needed psychiatric help in order to keep working in the field. The same colleague actively campaigned to return him to the classroom where he belongs.

As reported here at TattleCrime previously, events took a tragic turn when the profiler and his psychiatrist were allowed to work in the field, independent of any supervision by an actual Special Agent. Graham’s title is Special Investigator; he was unable to pass the FBI’s psychological evaluation to work as an agent. While cleared of wrongdoing, the fact remains that Graham fatally shot a suspect nine times and Dr. Lecter caused the death of seventeen-year-old Abigail Hobbs, albeit “in defense of Will Graham’s life.” And then there is the question of whether Graham and Lecter were aware of their relation prior to Crawford bringing the doctor aboard to evaluate and support the unstable profiler.

An anonymous source in the FBI claims that Graham seemed unusually angry with Crawford at the Minnesota Shrike’s last crime scene, found a day before the destruction of the Hobbs’ family. “He even referenced Lecter at the end of their conversation. He seemed to have a great deal of resentment towards the guy which made me wonder what his beef was? Now, it seems like we know, he didn’t want Daddy looking over his shoulder.”

While the powers that be at the FBI might turn a blind eye to Graham’s considerable psychological problems and Crawford’s dubious judgment, this reporter will continue to pursue the truth.”

Will threw the phone against the wall. Molly and Wally froze as the phone fell to the floor; screen cracked. Will was panting, his face contorted by rage. Eventually, Will’s breathing slowly returned to normal and his face stilled. His wife and stepson looked at each other silently. Will sat on the bed unmoving, staring blankly at the wall for several minutes. Finally, he snapped out of his fugue, his brow creased as he looked at Wally and said, “I’m sorry. We’ll go into town and pick you up a new one today.”

Wally nodded in response. Molly got off the bed and walked over to her son. She tilted his head up to look into his eyes and said, “Why don’t you get yourself some breakfast, Will and I need to talk.”

Her son gave her a questioning look, but when she smiled at him reassuringly, he left the room.

Molly turned back towards her husband, arms crossed against her chest and in low voice thrumming with anger demanded, “What the hell was that, Will?”

Will looked at her confused. She crossed over to him and leaned her face into his and growled, “How dare you frighten my child that way. I don’t care how angry you are, you can’t do that to him. You need to start controlling yourself around him.”

Before Will could respond, his cellphone rang. He looked over at it to see the caller. As he reached over to it, Molly hissed, “Don’t you dare.”

He picked it up with a gruff, “Hello, Jack.”

Molly rolled her eyes and exhaled angrily. She slammed the door shut on her way out of the bedroom.

“Will, we have a body, it looks like it’s another Ripper killing.”

Will arrived at the crime scene an hour later, unkempt and under caffeinated. He had dressed as quickly as he could after Jack hung-up. He felt it best to avoid the kitchen where Molly and Walter sat eating and speaking quietly to one another. Will couldn’t see the tableau yet; it must be further into the woods. Jack walked over to him and greeted him with, “It’s about time you got here.”

Will didn’t hesitate, he pulled his arm back and punched Jack so hard that he broke his nose. Will smiled as Jack’s blood splashed onto his face. He heard Hannibal’s voice behind him saying his name questioningly in a concerned voice.

Then louder, “Will, can you hear me?”

Jack was staring at him confused, nose perfectly intact. He felt strong hands turning him around and he was face to face with Hannibal whose visage was etched with worry. Will nodded and said hoarsely, “I can hear you.”

Hannibal’s hands went to Will’s temples and tilted his head up to examine his eyes. He dropped one hand to Will’s shoulder and placed the other one on his forehead and said, “You’re feverish. You shouldn’t be here.”

Jack cleared his throat and said, “I’m sure that Will is capable of making that decision for himself, Dr. Lecter.”

Will glanced over to where Zeller, Price and Katz stood watching them. Price and Katz nodded hello, but Zeller’s eyes dropped to the ground.

Jack said loudly, “Will. Let’s go.”

Jack led Will through the trees for about five minutes, Hannibal trailing behind. When they reached a clearing, Will looked up. His eyes widened. He stared for a few moments, then his eyes closed, and the pendulum swung. 

I’m driving slowly through a disreputable part of Baltimore. The only people on the sidewalks are young men, some dressed skimpily as women, some in leather and some in jeans and t-shirts. I find the one that I am looking for, dark curly hair, alabaster skin and blue eyes. I pull my car over to the curb when he is standing, fortunately alone. I role down my window, he leans in and looks surprised, the non-descript car belied my appearance. He takes in my expensive clothes. I smile at him charmingly and unlock the door for him. He hesitates but his cupidity wins out and he opens the door and slides into the passenger seat of the car.

“There’s a parking lot near here. I can give you directions.”

I shake my head and say, “You’re much too beautiful for that.”

The boy frowns and I continue, “I will pay you for the night.”

I watch the young man run the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. I can practically hear his thoughts. He knows that he shouldn’t go somewhere unknown with me. But he sees my obvious wealth and a plan forms. He’ll incapacitate me and take my wallet and watch. He smiles sweetly and says, “Whatever you want, Daddy.”

I drive him back to my house and park next to the car I normally drive. It is easily identifiable, so I never use it when I hunt. I take him through the door between the garage and the house. It is late enough that none of my neighbors are awake, but I won’t take any chances. I have already taken more risks that I should, but I can’t resist the call of this tableau.

He follows me docilly. I lead him through to my parlor. I ask him if he’d like a drink. He, of course, says yes. I leave him to examine the room, eyes searching for anything that he can take. He hadn’t planned on being brought to my home. It gives him an unexpected opportunity, but there is the problem of him getting out of the neighborhood without being noticed. He’s confident that I wouldn’t risk my reputation by calling the police, but a nosy neighbor might spot him and call 911. He is essentially trapped without realizing it.

I return with the wine. He smiles shyly, looking up at me through the fringe of his lashes. He takes a drink and compliments me on my home. After taking a sip of wine, I place my glass on the table. I walk over to him and take the glass of wine away from him and place it next to mine. I circle behind him and slip an arm across his chest and pull him flush against me. My hand slips unobtrusively into my pocket. The needle is in his neck before he can react. He struggles briefly and then collapse against me. I pull my arm back and he falls to the floor. I strip him completely and bundle his clothing in a bag to be burnt later. I carefully clean up all traces of him in my home, wiping down anything he may have touched and washing his wine glass.

I bundle him into the trunk of my car along with the bag of clothes and the items that I will need to complete my piece. I drive with him to the spot that I had chosen to display my creation. I will not be interrupted here. I don’t want him to wake up and have his struggling damage the body, so I inject him again, this time with a fatal dose. I am not punishing him, so it doesn’t matter.

This is my design.

Will opened his and eyes and stared at what the Ripper had left him. A man bearing a striking resemblance to him crucified on a wooden cross, a white cloth draped over his loins. The plaque above his head read FBI instead of INRI. A branch of white flowers twisted around his head replacing the crown of thorns. Red flowers flowed from the wound on his side. He felt Hannibal move behind him, bending his head slightly, he spoke in Will’s ear, “It seems that you have an admirer.”

Jack walked over to Will and Hannibal and asked, “What does it mean, Will?”

Will blinked at him, astonished. What the fuck do you think it means? He responded, “Get Price over here, I need him to tell me the significance of the flowers.”

Jack left to find Price. Hannibal moved, so that he stood a few inches in front of Will. He ran a thumb tenderly over one of the dark circles under Will’s eyes. He asked in a low voice, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

Will pushed Hannibal’s hand away gently as he responded, “No.” Will’s gaze dropped to the Windsor knot in Hannibal’s blood orange tie. Hannibal reached out to Will again, tipping his chin back up with two fingers. He dropped them as soon as Will’s gaze met his. Speaking in a firm tone, he said, “William, we have to speak.”

“Not here.”

“Of course not. Do you want to meet me at my office tonight?”

Will flinched, “Not the office.”

“Then my house, seven o’clock. I’ll make you dinner.”

Price was rapidly approaching, so Will didn’t put up a fight and nodded in agreement. Zeller as usual, walked beside his friend and co-worker with Jack following the pair. Katz must have stayed behind. Will noted that Zeller again refused to meet his eyes. Price, chipper as ever, addressed Will, “Jack tells me you want to know the meaning of the flowers.”

He pointed to the wreath around the dead man’s head and said, “The crown is made from Sweet Williams. White symbolizes purity. I don’t think I need to explain that in this case the significance is in the name, but in Victorian times they did symbolize gallantry. The red ones coming out of the stab wound are Camellias, they symbolize several things: excellence, loneliness and destiny.”

Will flushed and shifted uncomfortably, he could feel his co-workers’ eyes on him, questioning. Hannibal drew their attention to himself, when he said wryly, “Apparently the Ripper reads TattleCrime.”

Will smiled at him, while the others frowned, confused. Hannibal continued, “The Ripper sees Will as Christ, betrayed, crucified, and sacrificed to cleanse the world of sin. Metaphorically, of course—his crucifixion is in the press and the FBI appears to be willing to sacrifice Will’s psychological well-being in order to catch killers. The betrayal, of course, is literal, someone in the FBI who works closely with Will is feeding information to Ms. Lounds.”

Will and Hannibal gazed at each other for a few moments before Will spoke, “The Ripper didn’t take any organs this time. He didn’t harvest the body, because it would have ruined the aesthetic and undercut the message of his creation. The victim was picked strictly for his resemblance to me and not because he offended the Ripper as his previous victims had.”

Jack frowned and spoke, “I don’t like it Will, first the Ripper leaves you Cassie Boyle to help you with the Shrike case and now this. He’s taking an interest in you and I want to know why.”

Will felt a flare of anger, fueled further when he heard Zeller snort derisively. He responded curtly to Jack, “You’ll have to ask the Ripper.”

Hannibal placed a hand on Will’s shoulder as he spoke authoritatively to Jack, “Will has been here long enough. You have what you need from him for now. He can send you his complete profile later. He needs to go home.”

Jack huffed impatiently but didn’t contradict him. Will felt irritated by Jack’s reaction. Hannibal he would listen to. His attention snapped back to Hannibal when his hand brushed his arm. Hannibal said to him warmly, “Go, Will. I will see you at seven.”

Will nodded and walked back to his car alone.


	8. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal looked down at his hands, he was gripping his dessert fork so tightly that his knuckles were white. He looked back up at Will, his eyes smoldering as he asked him, “Am I Hades and my home the Underworld?”

Will gazed at his reflection in Molly’s full-length mirror, a family heirloom. He had pulled together an outfit from the smartest items in his limited wardrobe, black dress shirt, black slacks—thankfully unused since they were last dry-cleaned—and a silver and black striped tie—a Father’s Day present from Wally. He had managed to tame his curls with Molly’s hairdryer and mousse. His eyes moved unbidden to the long, still healing gash on his face. His finger traced alongside of it, he knew that it would not always look pink and raw. It would fade to white, but it would always be there.

“Well, hello, handsome.”

Will’s eyes met Molly’s in the mirror, and he smiled at her.

She walked over to him and snaked her arms around him. She playfully tugged his tie and said, “I can’t remember that last time that I saw you dressed up. Dr. Lecter must be a fancy man to warrant a tie for dinner.”

Will stiffened slightly.

“Are you OK with this dinner, Will?”, asked Molly, a crease in her brow.

Will turned around and pulled her tight. He said softly, “It’s all happened so fast. I only met him a few weeks ago and now this.” Will pressed his forehead against Molly’s and sighed. He spoke quietly, “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

Molly pulled away, so that she could look him in the face as she replied, “What is it?”

Will took Molly’s hand and led her to the bed. As they sat down on the edge of it, he looked down at the rug. He explained, “Last night, I wasn’t late because I was working. I was at Hannibal’s office. Jack wanted me to see him to be evaluated and cleared for the field. More than that, I was supposed to start therapy with him. It was our first session.”

I told him about my sex with a monster dream. Then I pushed him onto the floor, shoved my tongue in his mouth and started to rip his clothes off.

Molly squeezed his hand and said, “Did you want him to be your psychiatrist?”

Will nodded.

“I’m sorry, Will. You must really trust him. It must make all of this so much weirder.”

Yes, there is that and the sex dreams that I have been having about him since I met him. And how it felt when I kissed him, when I felt his hand on my bare back. The way we looked at each other in the Hobbs’ kitchen. The way we **saw** each other.

“We work together, too. Then the Lounds article coming out. Hannibal thought we should talk.”

Molly smiled at him and said, “I think he’s right.”

Will looked down at his watch. He kissed Molly on the forehead and said, “I better get going. Don’t wait up for me.”

As he started to rise off the bed, Molly grabbed his arm and said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Will looked at her, puzzled. Molly grabbed his glasses off the bedside table. As she handed them to him, she teased, “How far will you get if you can’t see where you’re going?”

Will arrived fifteen minutes early to Hannibal’s house which was uncomfortably grand from the outside. He debated staying in the car until seven o’clock, but decided he was being ridiculous. He took off his glasses and put them in the glove compartment, before walking up to the house and ringing the doorbell.

Hannibal opened the door and was taken slightly aback, Will had styled his hair but more importantly his eyes were bare. Those eyes, so beautiful and with such tantalizingly hidden depths.

“May I come in?”

Hannibal smiled and swept an arm towards the foyer, Will noticed his accent was thicker than usual as he spoke, “Of course, Will. Welcome to my home.”

Will unbuttoned his coat and Hannibal slipped it off him to hang it up on a wooden hanger in a small closet built with the door flush to the wall, barely noticeable.

“Dinner’s almost ready, come to the kitchen with me.”

Will took note of the décor as he followed Hannibal to the kitchen, it was elegant, but curiously macabre.

When they reached the kitchen, Will was amused when Hannibal took off his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves and tied an apron around his waist. His mouth quirked as he asked, “Do you always put your jacket back on to greet guests?”

Hannibal looked taken aback by the question but murmured a yes in response.

Will smiled and resisted the urge to tease him further. Instead he asked, “Can I help?”

“No, thank you,” he wrinkled his brow and continued, ”How rude of me, I haven’t offered you a drink. Would you care for a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal poured a glass of red wine from the bottle sitting next to the cutting board. He walked over to where Will was leaning against the wall to hand it to him. When Hannibal’s fingers grazed his, Will looked up at him and thanked him softly. Hannibal could feel Will’s discomfort grow as his fingers and gaze lingered a little too long. His eyes dropped as his fingers moved from Will’s. When he spoke his voice was rough, “If you would like, you can go through to the dining room, dinner’s almost ready.”

Will nodded and went through the arch dividing the kitchen and dining room. The room was impressively large, bigger than Molly and Will’s kitchen and opulently but idiosyncratically decorated. He walked over to the painting above the fireplace. Who has a fireplace in their dining room? The painting was of a naked woman about to have carnal knowledge with a swan. Hannibal walked up behind him as he contemplated it. Will started and said, “Jesus Christ, Hannibal, I should but a bell on you,”

Will could feel the amusement coming off him, not surprising considering how close he was standing to him. Practically touching.

“What do you think of it?”

“Leda and the Swan, interesting choice.”

“Are you familiar with the myth?”

“Zeus disguises himself as a swan to seduce a queen. One of many women.“

“Yes, he even transformed himself into a dragon once.”

Will turned around, trying his best not to brush against Hannibal in the process. “I’m not familiar with that myth. Who was he seducing?

“Persephone, his daughter.”

“I thought she was married to Hades.”

“He abducted her after.” Hannibal gestured to the table, “Please, have a seat, I will bring out dinner.”

Will took his place and looked at the ornate center piece, dark violet orchids, almost black, cascading from a silver bowl, small bleached skulls were artfully placed on the table between the trailing blossoms. Silver candelabra and firelight illuminated the room.

As Hannibal placed his plate in front of Will, he announced, “Wild mushroom risotto. I gathered the mushrooms myself, a combination of chicken of the woods, boletes, chanterelles and lion’s mane.”

As Hannibal seated himself, Will commented, “I didn’t peg you as a vegetarian.”

His host smirked and replied, “I most certainly am not one. As you know perfectly well from the breakfast that I brought to you. You should still be eating soft foods. I thought you might be tired of mac and cheese.”

Hannibal smiled and cast his eyes to Will’s plate and then looked at him expectantly. Will took a bite of the risotto and closed his eye involuntarily. An mmmh escaped from his lips. When he opened his eyes, Hannibal was staring intently at him. Will could not look away as he said, a little breathlessly, “It’s incredible.”

Hannibal’s tongue wet his lips and replied huskily, “I am delighted to hear you say that.”

Will, flushing, asked, “Did you see that Freddie has already published photos from the crime scene?”

“Yes, and another attack on you, questioning what it is about you that attracts the Ripper.”

Will’s hand started to go up to his face to push up his glasses before he remembered that they weren’t there. He grunted, “The Ripper is sending me messages, that’s hardly attraction.”

“Do you need your glasses to see?”

Will paused before responding, “No.”

“They are a shield?”

“Yes.”

“Does your wife know?”

“No. Can we get back to the Ripper?”

“Jack told me that you think that the Copycat is the Ripper,” Hannibal arched an eyebrow and asked, “How did you reach that conclusion?”

Will realized two things, that they had not broken eye contact since he complimented him on the risotto and that Hannibal was wearing a different suit than this morning, midnight blue, the material has a sheen to it, maybe silk. He had paired it with a burgundy shirt, a tie and pocket square in the same color as the shirt. He suddenly saw Hannibal in his dressing room, trying on and discarding different suits as he readied himself for Will. Will’s stomach clenched.

“Will, did you hear me?” his host asked with a wrinkled brow.

“Yes, of course. I could feel it was him. His style is unmistakable. The need to peacock is new: not to just show me what I needed to see, but to impress me. To forge an intimacy by using his art to enlighten me, to draw me to what he had seen with Hobbs.”

“Peacocks use their plumage to attract a mate. An interesting choice of words.”

Will looked down at his plate as he grumbled, “You sound like Freddie Lounds.”

“Ms. Lounds hinted at sexual attraction caused by a mutual bloodlust. Nonsense. The Ripper sees into your soul and finds you beautiful. He wants you to see him, his true self.”

“Can anyone see someone else’s true self?”

“It does not happen easily. Each person’s forts must be broken down brick by brick. It takes time and desire.”

“Like a seduction.”

“For both people to be stripped bare, it is more than a seduction, it is love.”

“What is seduction for?”

“To get what one wants.”

“Have you found it an effective tool?”

“I think that you have.”

Will snorted, “I’m a scruffy professor with an empathy disorder, hardly seductive.”

“Yet, you get what you want. From Jack, from Alana and, I assume, your wife. The key to seduction is understanding what the other person desires. You do that effortlessly. I can deduce, but you know.”

“Not with you. Your forts are built as solidly as mine.”

“But we saw each other at the Hobbs’ residence.”

“Yes, and what does that say about us?”

“That we’re alike.”

Hannibal placed his silverware carefully on his plate and asked, “Are you ready for dessert?”

Will nodded and Hannibal went into the kitchen. He contemplated the dining room, considering the space attentively.

Hannibal returned with the elegantly plated desert. Again, to Will’s amusement, he announced the dish as he placed Will’s slice in front of him, “Pomegranate mousse cake.”

Will waited for Hannibal to settle himself and for that look of expectation to color his features before picking up his fork. He carefully speared a single pomegranate seed from the multitude covering the top of the cake. He brought the fork up to his lips and asked coyly, “Are you trying to trick me into staying here?” He ate the single seed.

Hannibal looked down at his hands, he was gripping his dessert fork so tightly that his knuckles were white. He looked back up at Will, his eyes smoldering as he asked him, “Am I Hades and my home the Underworld?”

Will hummed when he bit into the cake, his eyes closed as he chewed and swallowed. It took all of Hannibal’s control to remain stoic. Will opened his eyes, “Hades was lonely, so he abducted Persephone. This house is in your domain, every inch of it reflecting you. But no one reads the symbols abounding in it. When I picture you in this dining room alone, eating your beautifully made meal, your loneliness makes my heart ache.”

“Do you want to keep me company in Hell, William?”

“I’ve heard that it is better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven.”

“Are you tired of serving?”

“I’m tired of being crucified.”

“And betrayed?”

Anger flashed in Will’s eyes; Hannibal noted that it brought out the green in them. He spoke roughly, “I know who my Judas is. Brian Zeller.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw it in him this morning.”

“That explains the scent of Ms. Lounds on him.”

Will asked incredulously, “You smelt her on him?”

“She uses a distinctive and rather cloying shampoo.”

Will laughed, “Psychiatrist, chef and human bloodhound.”

“As you love dogs, I will take that as a compliment.”

“And how do you know I love dogs?”

“We’ve established my olfactory abilities, you clearly live with seven of them, so I assume that you are more than just tolerant of them,” Hannibal smiled, Will noticed that it was quite genuine. “Would you like coffee?”

“I’d prefer whiskey.”

Hannibal stood to clear the table. Will noticed his frown as he picked up his own plate. Will followed him into the kitchen and watched, amused, as Hannibal put his dish on the kitchen island with a slight moue. In a small act of mercy, he placed his own next to Hannibal’s instead of stacking them. He bit his lip as he followed Hannibal into his library. He sat himself on one of two leather armchairs placed close together and tilted towards the fireplace. The distance from the fire was perfect; he was warm but not overheated. Hannibal brought over two crystal tumblers with generous pours of whiskey. He handed one to Will before seating himself. He crossed his legs gracefully and tilted his head as he said, “We have not spoken yet of Jack’s news.”

Will’s eyes drifted towards that fire as he took a sip of his whiskey, Irish and ridiculously smooth. Expensive and elegant like Hannibal’s home, his father’s home he reminded himself. He shifted uncomfortably and kept his gaze on the fire as he said, “How did you know it was true?”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t ask for another DNA test to confirm the results that the FBI found. I called my Dad and he told me that he was not my biological father and asked me if you were Lithuanian. So, I didn’t need anymore. Why didn’t you?”

“You have your mother’s eyes.”

“Then you remember her better than I do. Did she mean anything to you? My dad said it was a fling for her.”

“Will, please look at me.”

Will reluctantly turned his face towards Hannibal. The older man spoke, “After, I talked with Jack, I went into my memory palace to look for a possible candidate. When I saw her eyes, I knew.”

“I’ve never known someone who actually uses the memory palace technique. Do you ever escape into it?”

Hannibal grinned wolfishly and confided, “Sometimes when I am in session with one of my more tedious patients.”

Will smirked. He was quiet for a moment before he asked softly, “Are there rooms that you won’t visit?”

Hannibal look up sharply. Will felt grief and anger from Hannibal when he answered, “Yes, there are some doors that I have chained shut. But we have seemingly wandered from the point. Are you uncomfortable talking about what happened yesterday?”

“Only about the part where we were rolling on the floor together like a pair of teenagers, the part where I found out you were my father and the part where I found out my dad had been lying to me my whole life,” Will paused and ran his hands through his hair. He exhaled through his nose loudly and said, “I have never been as drawn this way to someone before. Now, I wonder if it is biological.”

“Do you mean genetic sexual attraction?”

“You’re a psychiatrist, you know there’s no hard science behind that theory. I think in our case, it is narcissism.”

“Why?”

“At the Hobbs house when I looked at you, it was like looking in a mirror. I didn’t look at you and become you, I saw myself in you.”

“And I in you.”

Will took a long drink. He spoke firmly but could not meet Hannibal’s gaze as he said, “That can’t happen again. And don’t play games by asking me which thing.”

Hannibal put down his drink and reached out and took Will’s hands in his as he spoke, “William, look at me,” he paused waiting for him to obey before he continued, “I have never felt this before either. I just want to be close to you however I can. You set the rules. I will be yours in whatever way that you want me.”

“You’re trembling, I can feel it.”

“So are you.”

“I have to go.”

Hannibal let go of his hands, “You’ve drunk too much to drive home. Let me call a car for you.”

Will protested, “I haven’t had that much to drink.”

“You’re well over the legal blood alcohol level for driving.”

“So, it’s doctor’s orders,” he paused, feeling awkward then he asked, “The washroom?”

“Down the hall and to the left.”

Hannibal sat down and at let out a shaky breath. He called his car hire service and arranged for an immediate pickup. He hung up and watched the flames dancing in the fireplace. He had committed countless acts of cruelty without his pulse raising an iota but this boy, his boy, made his heart race. He sensed Will as soon as he came in the room, hesitating in the doorway.

“Come in and take a seat. I have something for you.”

He went to his desk and pick up an elegantly wrapped box. He placed it in Will’s lap once he was seated. Will unwrapped it and took off the lid. It was a scarf, Will ran his fingers over it, cashmere and the shade matched his eyes perfectly. He looked up at Hannibal, who stood above him, and said, “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Hannibal knelt at his feet and took the scarf from the box. He folded it neatly in half length wise and then perfectly in half. He draped it across Will’s neck. He pulled the ends through the loop created by the fold. He adjusted it to his standards. He looked up at Will and said, “Something to keep you warm.”

He stood and offered his hand to Will and said, “Come, the car will be here shortly.”

Will hesitated but took the hand and Hannibal guided him up onto his feet. Hannibal let go of his hand and Will followed him into the foyer. Hannibal opened the coat closet and helped Will on with his coat. He murmured in his ear, “I have something else for you.”

Will stood silently as Hannibal pulled a black cap out from the closet. It was made of wool with a soft crown and stiff bill, decorated with braid and embroidery. He turned Will around to face him and placed it on his head. Will asked, “What is it?”

“A Greek sailor’s cap, I knew that you would wear it well.”

Will’s hands moved up to button his coat as he said, “Thank you.”

Hannibal pushed his hands away and started buttoning up his coat for him, stopping to carefully tuck the scarf into the coat before he finished buttoning it. His hands lingered on Will’s chest, he spoke, his eyes demurely looking at the scarf, “If you would rather, I can cancel the car and you can stay here tonight. Drive back home tomorrow morning.”

He felt Will stiffen and he added, “I have a guest room.”

Will covered Hannibal’s hands tenderly and spoke so lowly that it was almost a whisper, “I have to go.”

Hannibal allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of Will’s hands on his and the intoxicating bouquet of his arousal. Sensing how much he wanted Hannibal made it difficult to do what he needed to. Lose the battle and win the war. He looked down into Will’s eyes and murmured, “Of course, I’ll arrange to have a car to take you to Quantico tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll still need to pick up my car.”

“I can meet you after your last class and bring you back here to collect it. Does that suit you?”

Will squeezed Hannibal’s hands gently, letting them go as he asked, “Isn’t that inconvenient for you?”

Hannibal slid one hand up from Will’s chest and across his neck and throat. He cupped his chin, tilting his head, commanding Will’s gaze. His eyes were hooded. He stared into Will’s eyes, wild as the ocean, and confessed, “It gives me pleasure to take care of you.”

Hannibal’s phone buzzed. He let go of Will reluctantly as he told him, “The car’s here. I will walk you out.”

Hannibal shrugged on his own coat and escorted Will out into the cold to the black town car waiting in his driveway. He opened the door for him, but before Will could slide into the car, Hannibal stopped him. He placed his hands on either side of Will’s face and bent down to kiss his forehead. His hands slid down Will sleeves. Will pressed his forehead against Hannibal’s and whispered, “Good night.”

He pulled away and got into the car. Hannibal stood in the dark watching the car drive off.


	9. Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She thought about last night, the way he looked when he came home, the sleepwalking and now this. She grabbed a shot glass and a bottle of bourbon. She drank a shot, poured herself out another one and slammed it down.

Molly was curled up on the couch, reading and sipping a glass of white wine. The absence of Will in their bed made her too restless to sleep. She felt a surge of warmth when she heard the door open. However, when she saw Will a feeling of unease arose in her, almost as if a stranger had entered her home. The long pink scar down his face, the black cap and then his eyes—vibrant, not just because the scarf brought out the intensity of their color, but the look in them. She had never felt so much emotion coming from them. He felt wild.

Then he smiled at her, that familiar sweet crook of his mouth. He was back, her Will was standing there. Instead of saying hello, to her astonishment, she blurted out, “Where are you glasses?”

Will’s hand shot up to feel for them. They weren’t there. He felt his face warm in embarrassment. He stuttered out, “I must have left them in the car.”

Molly’s brow creased and her eyes squinted as she asked, confused, “Did you drive without them?”

Will shifted from one foot to the other and bit the inside of lip. He exhaled and said, “I didn’t drive home, Hannibal hired a car to drive me. We had whiskey after dinner, and he was concerned about me driving home.”

Molly reigned back the desire to ask him how much he had to drink. That conversation never went well. Instead she asked him, “Did Hannibal give you the hat and scarf?”

Will nodded.

Molly continued, “He has incredible taste. You look,” she paused and then continued, “dashing.”

Will remained still for a moment. He forced himself to give a small laugh and to walk over to the coat rack. He unbuttoned the coat, trying to block out the memory of Hannibal’s hands buttoning it, the warmth of his body and the smell of aftershave, masculine and elegant. When he hung up the scarf, his hand caressed the cashmere, soft and silky under his fingers.

“What did he make you for dinner?”

Will sat down on the couch next to Molly, so tender, lovely, and warm. This is what he should want. This was safe. This was comfortable. This was normal. He picked up her hand and curled their fingers together before he answered, “Risotto with wild mushrooms that he gathered himself. Pomegranate mousse cake for dessert.”

Molly looked shocked, but quickly regained her composure. She teased, “A home cooked meal, a ride home and presents. Someone’s ready to be a Daddy.”

Will’s whole body tightened at the word “Daddy.” He felt himself flushing. Molly gave him a puzzled look and said in a slightly worried tone, “Too soon for joking?”

Will shook his head. He squeezed her fingers and said, “No. You’re right. He is eager to be in my life. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Does he have any children?”

“No. He’s never been married. I think he’s spent his adult life alone.”

“Then this is a good thing for both of you.”

A small wave of nausea passed through Will. No, it’s really, really not. He pushed Molly’s hair back behind her ear and asked her, “Why do you think it is a good thing for me?”

Molly tilted her head, considering him carefully before she answered, “You’ve told me yourself that your father never could understand you. I feel like Hannibal is better equipped for that. He is a psychiatrist.”

Tell her. Tell her what happened before you found out he was your father. Why you should stay away from him because he clearly still desires you anyway. _I will be yours in whatever way that you want me._

Will dropped Molly’s hand and bowed his head into his hands. Molly squeezed his shoulder and said gently, “We don’t need to talk about this right now.”

“Sorry, a headache started in the car and it’s getting worse.”

Molly frowned; his headaches were a constant now. She spoke softly, “Let’s get you some aspirin and turn in. We can talk in the morning.”

Will nodded and followed her out of the room.

Will bolted up from the covers, chest heaving. Molly lay fast asleep next to him in the pitch black of the room. Something had awakened him. He stilled his breathing, so that he could hear properly. Hooves? He scanned the room as his vision adjusted. A dark shape lurked in the corner of their bedroom. Will heard a snort and saw it rise from its haunches. A stag. The beast headed toward the door. Will got out of bed and followed it. Suddenly, he was outside in the snow. A full moon illuminated his mysterious guide. A 12-point buck and black as night. Will looked closely and saw that its fur consisted of black feathers, blue-black like a raven’s. The beast looked back at him and snorted again. He started walking into the woods and Will followed him.

Will knew he was leading him to his beautiful Wendigo. Despite the freezing temperature, he felt warm and he was sweating. He could feel his cock swelling in anticipation. The stag stopped and Will heard his sweet beast’s hooves clomping on the ground, coming towards him. The stag left, but Will remained. His eyes widened when the Wendigo emerged from deep within the forest. It came to him and Will held out his open arms to it. It embraced him and Will ran his hands over the cool skin of its back. He stood on his toes and wrapped his hands around the base of its antlers. He tilted up his head and the beast bent his head down to kiss him.

Will groaned as his beast pushed his tongue through the crease of his lips. Will allowed him to plunge his tongue inside, licking and tasting. He grew fully erect as the beast slid his hands down cupping his ass tightly and pushing Will’s groin against his smoothness.

As they kissed and rutted. Will’s hands slipped from the base of antlers and down to its back. The Wendigo’s skin grew warm under his hands. One of Will’s hand slid up to cup the back of its skull and he felt fine, silky hair under his hands. His rolled off his toes, his feet flat on the snowy ground, and now the Wendigo was only inches taller than he was. Instead of rutting against smooth cold flesh, his cock was rubbing against another one, hard and warm. Will groaned and opened his eyes. Warm brown eyes gazed into his adoringly. He shut his eyes again as Hannibal plundered his mouth.

“Will! Will!

Will’s eyes flew open and saw the woods in front of their house. He looked down and saw his bare feet planted in the snow. His body was trembling violently. He was clad in only a white undershirt and boxers. He called out in a panicked voice, “Molly.”

Molly came into view, her coat pulled over her flannel night gown, bare legs tucked into warm boots. His coat draped over her arm. She quickly pulled it around his shoulders and said urgently, “Will, we have to go inside now.”

He followed her mutely back into the house. She bundled him into the bathroom and turned on the water. As the water filled the tub, she undressed him. It was impossible not to notice his erection. She pushed it to the back of her mind and helped into the tub. She waited until the water covered him before turning it off. She said firmly to him, “Will, stay in the tub. I am going to make you some tea and be right back.”

Will nodded, still shivering violently. Molly went to the kitchen and started the kettle. As she clumsily dug through the cabinets, boxes fell out and littered the counter. She found the chamomile tea and threw a bag in a large ceramic cup inelegantly painted with sunflowers. Wally had made it when he was ten for Mother’s Day. She worried her thumbnail as she waited for the water to boil. The whistle of the tea kettle broke her reverie. She poured the water into the cup and then stirred in a as much honey as it would take.

She carried the cup into the bathroom. Will took it with a trembling hand. As he sipped it, Molly tested the water and turned on the hot tap to warm the bath back up. She kissed him on the top of the head and said, “Finish the whole thing.”

Molly went to their bedroom and ran her hand against the sheets on Will’s side of the bed, they were damp with sweat. She changed the sheets and then dug through the dresser to find the flannel pajamas she had bought for Will for their first Christmas together. He never used them, but he would need them tonight.

She went back to the bathroom and helped Will out of the tub, dried him off and dressed him in the pajamas. After she tucked him into bed, she made two cups of tea. She helped Will sit up and gave him his cup. He drank it silently. She read her book and sipped her tea. Thank god that Wally was spending the night with John. How could she explain this to him?

After Will was done with his tea, he slid under the sheets and turned on his side away from her. Molly turned off her bedside lamp when she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She wondered if Will was asleep or not.

The next morning, Molly awoke to an empty bed. Her stomach rolled. Where was he? She slipped out of bed and as she left the room, she heard noise from downstairs. Will’s voice rang out loud, “God damn it. I know you’re in there.”

A noise she couldn’t identify was succeeded by a loud “Fuck.” She followed Will’s cursing downstairs to their den. He was kneeling on the floor in front of their fireplace, a flashlight in one hand and a broomstick in the other. He was shining the light up the flue and his head was tilted up to look inside. He was shoving the broomstick up the chimney. He cursed, “I know you’re up there, you little fucker.”

Molly stood staring at her husband for several moments until she found the courage to ask in a placating tone, “What are you doing, Will?”

Will pulled his head out of the fireplace and turned to look at her. His face was blackened with soot. Molly would have laughed if she hadn’t been so frightened. Will asked her in a hoarse voice, “Can’t you hear it?”

“Hear what?”

“The fucking raccoon, Molly,” he pointed at the fireplace, his voice rose as he said, “It’s in the chimney.”

Before Molly could respond, Will brushed past her and out the front door. She stood still and listened carefully. There was nothing in the chimney. She had no idea what to do. When the front door slammed open, she jerked. Will stormed into the den with a sledgehammer. And for the first time in their marriage, she felt afraid that Will would hurt her.

Will ignored her completely and marched over to the fireplace. Without hesitation, he started bashing into the wall above the mantle with the sledgehammer. He kept going until he punched a hole through the drywall and the brick stack behind it. He dropped the sledgehammer and dragged a chair in front of the fireplace. Will hoisted himself up to stand on it. He pushed one arm through the hole to shine a light. He stuck his head part way through to peer into the darkness. After a few minutes, he pulled his head out, turned around and jumped off the chair. He looked at Molly bewildered as the flashlight fell out of his relaxing grip. Molly hesitated, unsure of what to say. Will spoke before she could, “There’s nothing there.”

As Molly struggled for a response, Will walked out of the room. When she heard his office door slam shut, she let out a harsh exhale and walked over to their wet bar. Will had designed and built it himself, it was the only thing in the house that was truly his. All the other furniture, even the desk, chair and loveseat in his office, has been picked out by her. He hadn’t been interested. Sometimes it felt like he was nothing more than a boarder. She thought about last night, the way he looked when he came home, the sleepwalking and now this. She grabbed a shot glass and a bottle of bourbon. She drank a shot, poured herself out another one and slammed it down.

She pulled the cell phone out of her robe pocket and dialed her mother who picked up on the second ring. Molly explained that Will was sick and asked if Wally could spend the weekend with them. To Molly’s considerable relief, her mother had resisted the temptation to ask the question that she was clearly thinking, “Is he on a bender?” Her mother would pick Wally up from John’s house and take him directly to her parents’ house. Molly called the school as soon as she hung up with her mom to let them know that Wally would be absent for the day.

Molly went to the kitchen, grabbed herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the rough-hewn oak table that they ate most of their meals at. The dining room was saved for special occasions. She stared through the still open door out at the woods as she took a long drink of her coffee. What the fuck was that? She debated calling Alana, but she was sure that her presence would make things worse. Will just didn’t hate psychiatrist, he feared them. Once, during a late night of drinking when they were first married, he confessed that his greatest fear was being committed. She didn’t want to take him to a hospital, if they perceived him as a threat to himself or others, he could be TDOed. The sounds of their dogs barking from the enclosure behind the house interrupted her thoughts. Fuck. She would have to feed them.

She pulled on her boots and grabbed the homemade dog food from the refrigerator. Who makes dog-food from scratch? Who has seven dogs for that matter? Why is she surprised now when the same man destroyed a wall in their den to chase down an imaginary raccoon? Molly slammed the backdoor open with a kick. As she dished out the food into the dogs’ food bowls, she continued to berate herself. It wasn’t like he hid his pack of dogs and his drinking from her. She ignored all the red flags including him never talking about why he had left the NOPD. There was something sweet and fragile about him that enticed her and she married him. God, what kind of a man had she brought into her son’s life?

After Molly filled their water bowls with the hose, she opened the back gate. Will was an excellent trainer and the dogs would come back on their own after they had a good romp. She went back into the kitchen and refilled here coffee cup and threw a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster. As she waited for her toast, she sipped her coffee and pondered what to do next. She had to get Will help that he would accept. She thought of Hannibal. According to Alana, he was an excellent psychiatrist.

She decided to bypass calling Alana for Hannibal’s phone number. It would be better to keep her out of it; she dreaded doing anything that would rile Will up more. When her toast popped up, she smothered it with peanut butter and poured herself more coffee. As she ate, she pulled her phone back out of her pocket and Googled Hannibal Lecter. Unsurprisingly, he was the only one in Baltimore. No more stalling. She picked up her phone and dialed his office number. She was beginning to think it would go to voice mail when an accented voice said, “Good morning. Dr. Hannibal Lecter speaking.”

Molly forced herself to respond, “Dr. Lecter, this is Molly Graham, Will’s wife. I, I need your help”

She heard a sharp inhale and then, “Has something happened to Will?”

“Last night I found him outside in the snow. He was in some sort of trance. This morning he busted open a wall with a sledgehammer. He insisted there was a raccoon in the chimney. There wasn’t one. I don’t know what to do.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s locked in his office. It’s completely quiet in there.”

“Is your son home?”

“No, he was at a friend’s home. I had my mother go pick him up and take him to their house for the weekend.”

“I’m glad, Molly. I do not want to scare you, but it is important that I ask this question. Does Will keep his service weapon in his office?”

Molly felt panic rise in her body, and her voice trembled when she responded, “No, he keeps it in the gun safe in our bedroom.”

The voice on the phone remained steady, “Molly, I need you to go to the bedroom and check to make sure the gun is still there. Are you on a cell phone?”

“Yes, I am. I’m going there now.”

Hannibal continued speaking as she made her way to the bedroom, “Do you have any other guns in the house?”

“Yes, a shotgun and two hunting rifles.”

“Where are they kept?”

“In a locked case in the den,” Hannibal heard a sigh of relief and then Molly spoke again, “It’s here in the safe.”

“That is good, Molly. Can you go and check the gun case?”

As she moved to the den, Hannibal continued to speak, his calm demeanor steadying her, “You said he had a sledgehammer, did he take it into the office with him?”

“No, he dropped it when he didn’t find anything in the wall,” she paused and then continued, “All the guns are in the case.”

“Molly, do you want me to come there?”

“God, yes please. I don’t want to try to get him out of the office on my own and I don’t want to call 911.”

Hannibal did not question her as to why she didn’t want to place an emergency call. This was too good of an opportunity for him. He said gently, “I will arrive in about 45 minutes. Molly, if you hear anything that may indicate he’s hurting himself or you feel threatened in anyway, call 911 immediately.”

“Yes, Hannibal. Thank you.”

“You are welcome, Molly. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Hannibal hung up his office phone and a smile tugged at his lips. He didn’t want anything terrible to happen to his beautiful boy, but to have his wife call him when he was in distress was delectable. Hannibal went into the bathroom that adjoined his office and looked at himself in the mirror with approval. He was pleased with his choice of the tan tweed this morning, appropriate for country. He adjusted his paisley tie and red pocket square.

Molly took a shower and pulled on some clothes, keeping an ear out for Will the whole time. She busied herself cleaning up the bedroom and kitchen while waiting for Hannibal to arrive. She did not touch the den, she wanted to leave it as is for Hannibal to see. However, she did put away the bottle and shot glass. As she was debating starting in on the bathrooms, she heard a polite knock on the door. She half ran to it. When she opened the door, she was immediately taken aback. She had expected him to have some resemblance to Will, but he must have taken after his mother. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and invited him in.

Molly stared at Hannibal while he took off a gorgeously tailored camelhair overcoat and hung it on a peg with a slight frown. Irrationally, considering the circumstances, she wished that she had a wooden hanger for it. He was big, taller and more powerfully built than Will. His eyes were dark brown with a reddish tint, almost maroon. Will’s features were rounded, his were angular and sharp. He was striking in contrast to Will’s classic beauty. Molly had never seen someone so well dressed. Although there was something vaguely eccentric about the combination of his suit, tie, shirt and, god, was that pocket square? A smooth, accented voice brought her back to reality.

“Molly, has there been any change?”

“No, he’s still in his office.”

Hannibal squeezed her shoulder gently and said, “Why don’t we have a coffee and talk? I would like to have more information about Will before I see him.”

Molly nodded and led him into the kitchen. Hannibal took a seat and watched Molly grab a pair of mugs and fill them. He sized her up. Her roots showed that she wasn’t a natural blonde. Under her jeans and the truly awful flannel shirt she was wearing, lay a pleasingly feminine figure. With some effort, she could be stunning. He was glad that she did not make the effort. Hannibal unconsciously straightened his tie.

She sat down a mug in front of him and asked, “Milk or sugar?”

Hannibal shook his head and said in a courteous tone, “Neither, thank you.”

While Molly seated herself, he took a sip. Hideous. It tasted burnt and the coffee it was made from was obviously stale. Probably from a can. He glared at the Mr. Coffee machine on the counter before he pulled his face into a calm mask. He asked, “Has he had hallucinations before?”

Molly’s eyes started to brim with tears, and she made a concentrated effort not to cry. She tried to steady her voice as she replied, “I don’t think so. But he has been zoning out lately. I’ll have to ask a question more than once or say his name several times to get his attention.”

Hannibal nodded and said, “I noticed that Will takes aspirin frequently. Has he always had headaches?”

“He used to have them occasionally. Over the past few months, they have become more frequent and intense.”

Hannibal reached out and squeezed Molly’s hand gently as he asked, “Has he been violent?”

Molly shook her head and said hesitantly, “He hasn’t hurt either of us. But he seems angrier. When he read Freddie Lounds’ article about you being his father, he exploded. He threw the cell phone against the wall. Then he went completely still for about five minutes. Then he just snapped out of it.”

Hannibal nodded in response, “One last question, Molly. Other than last night’s sleepwalking episode, has he had sleep issues?”

“He used to have the occasional nightmare, but since he started working for Jack, they are almost nightly.”

“Has anything changed in the last few weeks?”

Hannibal’s eyes gleamed with curiosity as Molly shifted in her chair before answering. There was something that she was not comfortable sharing. She said, “His dreams seem to be even more intense. When I wake up in the morning, he’s in the bathroom showering and the sheets are so damp with sweat that I have to change them. He’s not telling me anything about them.”

Hannibal bit back a smile and said, “I should see Will now. Will he come out of the office if you ask?”

“I’m not sure.”

Hannibal followed Molly to the door of Will’s office. She knocked gently and called through the door, “Will, I’m coming in, is that alright?”

There was no response. Molly tried the door and to her surprise it opened. Will sat on the loveseat facing the doorway. It took a moment for him to register that Molly was there.

Will looked up and saw the Wendigo standing behind Molly dressed in a three-piece suit. He let out a high-pitch scream. He scrambled off the couch and pivoted to hide behind it. He peeked his head above the back, so that he could keep the beast in his sites. The monster gently moved Molly aside and made its way slowly over to Will as though he was the wild creature. It said his name softly, almost seductively. Will let out a whine when it moved behind the couch. The black, antlered creature gently put a hand on each of Will’s sides and drew him up and into an embrace. Will nestled his head into the crook of its neck. The Wendigo petted through his hair and practically whispered, “Will, it is Hannibal. I am Hannibal.”

The creature pushed Will slightly away and titled Will’s chin up with the push of a finger. Will blinked twice as he stared into Hannibal’s eyes and asked in a confused tone, “Hannibal?”

Hannibal smiled at him and ran his fingers through Will’s hair and murmured, “Yes, darling boy.”

He then buried his nose into Will’s curls and inhaled deeply.

From the doorway, Molly asked in an incredulous and slightly angry tone, “Did you just smell him?”


	10. Manipulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly didn’t bother to suppress an eye roll as she started back up, “Will isn’t in a hospital gown, he’s in silk pajamas. Hannibal brought in soap and shampoo for the nurses to use on him.”
> 
> Molly wanted to slap the patronizingly concerned look off Alana’s face, as if she was the one behaving irrationally and not Hannibal. She snapped out, “He trims Will’s beard.”
> 
> Finally, Alana looked nonplussed.

Alana looked at Molly from across the round white table situated by a row of windows in the hospital cafeteria. She smiled kindly and asked, “How are you holding up, Molly?

Molly took a drink of coffee, buying time to get a grip on her emotions before responding, “Exhausted. Overwhelmed. I had a meeting with Dr. Sutcliffe to discuss Will’s discharge from the hospital and what comes next.”

Alana reached out and squeezed Molly’s hand and asked, “Anything that I can do to help?”

Molly shook her head and said, “No. We’re getting a tremendous amount of support from Hannibal,” Molly ran a nervous finger around the rim of her coffee cup. She looked up at Alana with a furrowed brow and asked, “How well do you know Hannibal?”

Alana sat back in her chair and gave Molly a puzzled look as she responded, “I’ve known him for years, since my residency.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Molly returned, irritation evident in her voice, “I asked how well you know him, not how long you’ve known him.”

Alana tried her best to shove down the offense she was feeling at the other woman’s words. Molly was under an incredible amount of duress; she should be patient. She took a stilling breath before replying, “We’ve spent many evenings cooking and dining together in his home. I can’t count how many times that I’ve told him my troubles. He is the kindest and wisest man I’ve ever known.”

Molly looked at her intently and asked, “Does he ever tell you his troubles?”

Alana blinked and was quiet. Finally, she said, “No. Nothing ever seems to faze him.”

“No conflicts with lovers, other friends, colleagues?”

Alana shifted uncomfortably in her seat and replied, “None that he’s ever told me about. We discuss our work, of course. Sometimes, music or art,” Alana smiled to herself, “Well, he talks about it. I listen. He’ll tell funny stories about his acquaintances or his patients.”

“Acquaintances. Does he have friends?”

Alana replied, defensively, “I’m his friend.”

Molly stared at her intensely as she asked, “Why did he move to Baltimore? What happened to his family? Has he ever been in love?”

Alana frowned as Molly rattled off the questions. Her rising anger stilled as she thought about them. She looked at Molly and said quietly, “I don’t know the answer to any of those questions.”

“But he does know all those things about you?”

Alana nodded. She looked down at her hands circled around her coffee cup. For the first time since she had known Hannibal, she realized that their relationship was one sided. She had relied on him, but he had never reached out to her in the same way. She knew extraordinarily little about Hannibal despite him being an important part of her life.

Molly’s next words cut through the fog that had started to envelop her, “He’s devoted to Will.”

“What do you mean?” asked Alana feeling disturbed by Molly’s choice of words.

“I called him when Will was hallucinating. He came over immediately and took control of the situation. I was grateful. He suspected that Will had encephalitis. He said that he could smell it,” Molly paused with a look of almost of distaste before continuing, “Which is weird, not least of all because he was right. Hannibal drove us to the hospital, got the leading neurologist in Baltimore to exam him. He paid for Will to have a private room here.”

Molly paused, when she saw the confusion in Alana's face, she had to make a concentrated effort not to raise her voice. She continued, “He’s been here everyday for hours visiting Will. He brings him all his meals. Which he makes himself.”

Alana interjected, “He enjoys feeding people.”

Molly didn’t bother to suppress an eye roll as she started back up, “Will isn’t in a hospital gown, he’s in silk pajamas. Hannibal brought in soap and shampoo for the nurses to use on him.”

Molly wanted to slap the patronizingly concerned look off Alana’s face, as if she was the one behaving irrationally and not Hannibal. She snapped out, “He trims Will’s beard.”

Finally, Alana looked nonplussed.

“If you were in the hospital, what would he do for you?”

Alana swallowed remembering when she was seriously ill two winters ago. She responded, “He visited me a couple of times when I was hospitalized with pneumonia. He brought me flowers and books to read.”

Molly crossed her arms and waited.

“But he is Will’s father.”

“No, Will’s father is at home in Louisiana. He sired Will and had known him less than a month before his hospitalization.”

Alana felt discomforted and asked faintly, “What are you trying to say, Molly?”

Molly's gaze moved up and to the right of Alana’s head, lost in introspection. She shook her head. Her eyes bored into Alana’s as she replied, “I don’t know.”

Alana cleared her throat and said gently, “I am going to go see Will now.”

As she collected her purse and got up to leave, Molly said wryly, “Say hello to Hannibal for me.”

As Alana made her way to Will’s private room, she mulled over her conversation with Molly. Her mind went back to the morning that she had called Hannibal after reading Freddie Lounds’ article. She had been so mortified by Hannibal’s questioning of both her ethics and motivations that she hadn’t realized that he had turned her attention away from his breach of ethics. He had also maneuvered her into pulling away from Will. She shook her head; she was being ridiculous. Hannibal wouldn’t do that.

She felt saddened when she saw Will in his hospital bed, ashen skinned and frail. His face was tilted towards Hannibal who sat in a visitor’s chair pulled as close to the bed as possible. Hannibal was on the edge of his chair leaning slightly over Will, his face soft and open under Will’s gaze. Hannibal was holding the hand closest to him and speaking softly to him. Will murmured something back, his eyes never once looking away from Hannibal’s. Alana had never seen him keep eye contact for so long. Alana coughed from the doorway. Will let go of Hannibal’s hand and he settled back into his chair. He crossed his legs in his usual elegant style and said with his familiar warm smile, “Good afternoon, Alana.”

He spoke with a genuine fondness for her but in the way that you would with a child. Alana realized that he had maintained a paternalistic manner with her even after they had become colleagues instead of mentor and mentee. He acted that way with all his friends. The acquaintances he had from the opera he treated with an amused detachment. With the people he disliked, like Chilton, then there was an icy contempt. She had never seen him look or speak to anyone the way his was doing with Will.

“Alana, are you feeling well?’

“Yes,” she responded, forcing herself to smile as she continued, “I just wasn’t expecting you to be here. I mean, I didn’t realize that you were visiting now.”

She felt herself blushing like an idiot.

As usual, Hannibal came to the rescue during the moment of social awkwardness and said politely, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

As he got up to leave, Will took his hand and looked up at him and asked, “Will you be back later?”

Hannibal smiled. He bent down and whispered, “I’ll be back with your dinner, darling boy.”

When he kissed Will’s forehead, Alana almost dropped her coffee cup. She stood frozen until Hannibal left the room. She went over to the visitor’s chair and moved it back a few feet before sitting down. She smiled affectionately at Will and said, “It looks like Hannibal is taking the role of father seriously.” She winced at her own words, that was not what she had intended to say.

Will tilted his head and asked archly, “Don’t people usually ask someone how they are feeling when they visit them in a hospital?”

Alana shifted in her seat and replied, “I am sorry, Will. I just have never seen Hannibal so,” she tried to find the right words, to her horror she said, “touchy feely.”

Will cocked an eyebrow at her.

She cleared her throat and continued, “I have known Hannibal a long time and he’s not much of one for expressing his fondness so openly.”

“Well, I am his son,” Will responded with a twitch of his lips.

Alana blushed and said, “Yes, of course. I just didn’t expect him to be so changed by it.”

“Maybe it isn’t so much that he changed as you’re seeing a different part of him.”

Alana responded, more sharply than she meant to, “He’s different with you.”

Will asked, “Why does it bother you?”

“I didn’t say it bothered me. It’s just surprising.”

“Are you jealous?”

“That he’s your father?”

Will grinned, showing too many teeth and with no warmth in his eyes. Alana had seen it on Will's face a few times, usually before saying something incisive and cruel. He had never aimed it at her before. He countered, “No, because he is so affectionate with me.”

Alana frowned and before she could respond, he asked, “Were you ever lovers?”

Alana’s skin flushed as she pushed her back against the chair. She snapped out, “That’s none of your business, Will.”

Will looked at her intently. She had never been under his gaze like this. Even the time that they had kissed, he had been too caught up in his embarrassment to peer too far into her, just enough to know that she regretted it. She was always the one trying to understand him.

Will said, “You wanted to be. You still do.”

Alana grabbed her purse and stormed out of the room. Will watched her go. He was disconcerted, not by her leaving, but by the ugly feeling of hostility roiling in him. Not the resentment he often felt towards her, but anger at her for thinking about Hannibal that way.

Molly looked up from her coffee when a familiar voice asked, “May I join you?”

“Of course, Hannibal.”

“You look troubled, Molly.”

She looked into his inscrutable eyes and paused before answering. She had hoped that Alana would give her an insight into him that would reassure her about his presence in their lives, but instead, she felt more apprehensive. She wondered how he felt about her. He was always gentlemanly. But she was pretty damn sure, he didn’t like her. No, that wasn’t it. He resented her. 

“I talked to Dr. Sutcliffe. The hospital will be discharging Will in the next few days.”

Hannibal said gently, “You are worried that you will not be able to take care of him.”

Molly sighed and clutched her cup tighter. She felt tears starting to form in her eyes. Kind words, especially perceptive ones, undid her. She hated that about herself. 

Hannibal continued, “You are a strong woman. You devotedly nursed your husband through his terminal illness. You raised your son by yourself for several years before you met Will.”

An unwelcome wave of resentment pushed into her, for all intents and purposes she was still raising Wally on her own. She looked down at the Formica tabletop and took a deep breath before speaking, “Will needs rest, good nutrition, not to drink and not to work. I could never get Will to take proper care of himself. He ate regularly because I fed him and packed him a lunch. He curbed his drinking because I asked him to. Ever since he started working for Jack, he has been eating less and drinking more. He’ll lock himself in his office for hours, obsessing over case files. Jack’s been here to visit him and is already pressuring him to work from home, ‘once he’s settled.’”

Molly was almost sick with shame as she looked at Hannibal and said, “I have to work. We can’t afford for me to be at home full time.”

“Are you parents able to help you?”

Molly closed her eyes and sighed. She opened them and looked at Hannibal. Almost against her will, she blurted out, “They don’t like Will,” she could feel the heat in her face as she went on, “They wouldn’t move into the house or let us move into theirs. If I asked, they would take Wally indefinitely.”

Hannibal nodded in understanding and expressed what she was thinking, “You don’t want to be separated from your son for the months it will take for Will to recover.”

Molly felt a stab of guilt and said, “He’s already been through so much.”

“What about Mr. Graham?”

Molly grimaced slightly at the formality, it seemed wrong to call Will’s dad that. She responded, “He’s in poor health and is struggling to get by on the money from his boat engine repair business.”

“You do not like to ask for help, Molly. You are used to taking care of everyone else, but you deserve to be taken care of too,” Hannibal took Molly’s hands in his and said, “I am in a position to help in a way that the others can’t. I can refer my patients and devote myself fully to Will’s recovery.”

“Hannibal, I can’t ask that of you.”

Hannibal looked into Molly’s eyes and knew he had to say something to counteract her suspicion of him which had been growing as Will had made progress. He was struggling with concealing his emotions regarding Will. Will was stripping him of more and more of his self-control each passing day. He said, “Family is important to me. When I found out Will was my son, it was a gift. I lost my parents and my sister when I was young,” he looked down at their joined hands as he continued, “I lived in a state-run orphanage for several years. When my aunt and uncle found where I was, they adopted me. They are gone now too.”

He looked up from their hands, his eyes pleading. His voice caught slightly as he said, “He’s all I have.”

He saw the compassion in Molly’s look and knew he had calculated correctly. He pressed on, “Will can live at my house until he is fully recovered. I will feed him, help him with his physical therapy, and ensure that he follows his medication regime.”

Molly bit her lip. Before she could speak, he added, “I can keep Jack away from him.”

Something in her screamed no, but Molly pushed it aside. Hannibal was a doctor and could take better care of Will than she could. She needed to be logical about this. She spoke resolutely, “We should meet with Dr. Sutcliffe and let him know that Will will be staying with you. Thank you, Hannibal.”

Hannibal gave her a genuine smile and said, “It is my pleasure, Molly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always listen to your gut.


	11. Magnetism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal frowned, not understanding. Before he could ask anything, Will spoke again, “I want you to sleep in the bed with me.”

Hannibal sat propped up against the headboard of his bed, reading _The Iliad_ or rather rereading it. Or rather trying to reread it. He sighed as he closed the book and put it on his bedside table, his reading glasses followed shortly. Will had been under his care for close to two months and Hannibal was growing distraught at the thought of his leaving. He knew logically that Will could not stay with him forever, but the thought of him going back to that shack and to his insipid wife was unacceptable. He had to find a way to keep him. However, every time that he started to construct a plan all he did was fantasize about killing Molly in an increasingly baroque manner.

His current bloody fantasying was cut short when he heard a scream from Will’s bedroom. He threw aside the covers and strode down the hallway bare chested. He restrained himself from bursting through the door and instead knocked softly and asked quietly, “Will, are you alright? May I come in?”

When he heard a soft “Yes”, he opened the door. Will was sitting up in his bed, sheets around his waist. His alabaster skin even paler in the moonlight. He looked at Hannibal with eyes full of fear and need. Hannibal crossed into the room and sat on the bed next to him. He placed his hand on Will’s forehead, unnecessarily checking for a fever. His hand dropped down to his lap and he said in a gentle tone, “What did you dream about, Will?”

Will shook his head and said in a shaky voice, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Hannibal nodded, his chest tightened, Will was withdrawing from him. He asked, “Would you like a sedative?”

He forcibly repressed a sigh at the inanity of his own question.

Will shook his head. He resignedly kissed Will on the forehead and said, “If you need anything, you know where I am.”

As he stood up to leave, Will grasped his hand. Hannibal inhaled sharply at Will’s touch. While Will never pulled away from his touches, which at this point were constant, he had rarely initiated since he had found out that Hannibal was his father.

Will rasped, “Don’t go.”

Hannibal remained still as he asked, “What do you want, Will?”

Blue eyes met his, bright with unshed tears. Will spoke so lowly that Hannibal could barely hear him ask, “Will you stay with me tonight?”

Hannibal sat back on the bed beside him. Before he could speak, Will said, “Please.”

Hannibal placed his hand on Will’s face, taking pleasure in touching his warm, soft skin. He spoke tenderly, “Of course, Will,” he looked over at the armchair, it was comfortable but hardly ideal for sleeping. He continued, “I need to go to my room for a blanket and pillow. I will be right back.”

Will placed his hand over Hannibal’s and said, “No.”

Hannibal frowned, not understanding. Before he could ask anything, Will spoke again, “I want you to sleep in the bed with me.”

Will looked away from him. Hannibal was almost amused by the Will’s palpable fear that he would deny him. Even now, his boy had no idea that he would burn the world down around them to keep him warm. Hannibal stood up and circled around the bed. He slid under the covers and laid down on his back. Will hesitated and then laid back down pulling the bedding up to his chest. Hannibal sensed his head turning to face him and he mirrored the movement. Will’s fathomless eyes gazed into his. Will opened his mouth and then shut it. He turned on his side, facing away from Hannibal. He was flooded with disappointment; he had hoped for something more. Then Will whispered, “Please hold me.”

For a moment, he wondered if Will was deliberately torturing him. He pushed the thought aside and rolled to his side. He reached over and clumsily put his arm around Will.

“No, closer.”

Hannibal gritted his teeth to keep any sound escaping from him. He moved closer. They were silent.

“Closer. I need to feel you.”

A soft curse in Lithuanian escaped Hannibal’s lips. He pulled Will’s body flush against his. Will’s body went rigid and Hannibal bent his head to whisper in his ear, “Is this what you want, William?”

Will let out a breathy yes. Hannibal would have given anything to stop the swelling of his cock. Surely, Will would feel it. Will’s hand gripped the arm around his waist and his rapid breathing echoed in the silence of the room. Hannibal nuzzled his neck, drinking in the scent of Will’s arousal. Will moaned and pressed his body firmly into Hannibal's. He groaned in response.

They lay there for a few moments, only their panting breaking the silence. Will said softly, “I dreamed about going home.”

Hannibal held himself perfectly still and waited for Will to continue.

Will spoke in a strained voice, “I’m sitting in my car outside my home. I don’t want to go in, but I know that I can’t keep putting it off. The night is cold and eerily silent. The light from the full moon reflects off the snow. As I walk up the steps, I notice that the door is open. I reach for my weapon, but it isn’t there. My heart is racing, but not from fear, I am excited.

I take off my boots and then open the door as softly as I can. The house is dark except for the moonlight streaming through the windows. I can hear Molly crying in the den. I make my way there as quickly as I can without making any noise. Molly and Walter are tied to two of our kitchen chairs and the light from the fireplace is flickering on their faces. There is a man standing in front of them. He’s wearing a plastic suit over his clothes and it has booties and a hood. When he leaves, there won’t be a trace of him left.

He remains completely still but I know that he senses that I am there. I realize that he has been waiting for me, but he doesn’t say anything and neither do I. Somehow, I know that he is The Chesapeake Ripper. I brought him into my life and my family will pay for it. He moves towards my stepson and my wife. His arm raises and I just stand there. He cuts Wally’s throat and then Molly’s. Their blood sprays over him, the floor, their bodies, it is everywhere. I remain still staring at the blood flowing from my family. He turns towards me, but his face is obscured by shadows.

When he walks past me, I finally move. I grab him from behind, but he bucks me off easily. He runs out the door and I run after him. I chase him into the woods. Somehow, he seems smaller now that we are outside of the house. I tackle him to the ground. He doesn’t fight me as I turn him around to look at his face.”

Will stopped, breathing heavily. Hannibal felt a bead of sweat fall on his forehead. Will knows that he is The Ripper. He knew that this day would come, Will was too intelligent not to realize it. He wondered if he would turn him in or kill him. He hoped for the latter. He forced the question out of himself, “Whose face was it, Will?”

Will exhaled heavily and his body started shaking. He said quietly, “Mine.”

Hannibal grappled with his conflicting emotions, relief, disappointment, and concern. He focused on Will. “Do you feel like your casework is destroying your family?”

“I know that it is, and I keep doing it anyway. Jack tries to manipulate me by telling me that I am saving lives, but that’s not why I keep doing it.”

“Why do you?”

Will paused for a moment and Hannibal was afraid that he would stop talking. Will replied, “Since I have been away from profiling in the field for the last several months, I realized that I do it because I enjoy it. I am fascinated by the killings. Most of all by The Ripper’s work,” his voice cracked, and he sighed out, “It’s art. It’s beautiful and I miss it. I miss seeing his tableaux.”

Hannibal tightened his grip around Will, he desperately wanted to tell Will that he is The Ripper, but he knew now that Will would discover it for himself when he was ready. Instead he asked, “When you saw The Ripper kill your family, how did you feel?”

“Relieved.”

Hannibal pushed his forehead against the back of Will’s skull, mute. A tremulous voice asked him, “Are you surprised by that, Hannibal?”

In a hoarse voice, Hannibal asked him, “Why relief?”

“They are tethering me to a life that I don’t want.”

Hannibal’s eyes closed and whispered, “Are you going back to them?”

‘Where else would I go?”

Hannibal’s accent thickened as he said, “You can stay here with me.”

Will’s body went rigid in his arms. Hannibal cursed himself. He should have been more subtle, taken the time to seduce Will into staying somehow. Why couldn’t he come up with a plan?

“I can?”

Hannibal nuzzled into Will’s curls and sighed out, “Of course, my darling boy. For as long as you need. Forever if you want.”

He felt Will relaxing and he said quietly, “We should talk about this tomorrow. It’s late and you need to sleep.”

“Goodnight, Hannibal.”

“Goodnight, Will.”

Will woke up pressed tightly against a warm body. It took him a moment to register that it was Hannibal. They had changed positions in their sleep. Will’s body was cradling Hannibal’s now and his arm was around his waist pulling him firmly against him. Will’s erect cock was pressed against Hannibal’s ass. Before he could stop himself, he rolled his hips. A moan escaped him. His whole body started tingling. He wanted to do it again. He needed to get out of the bed immediately. He started to slide his arm off Hannibal. But his arm was gripped hard in response and moved back to where had been.

God, Hannibal was awake. Will felt his skin flushing, what the hell could he say to him? He cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry,”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about Will, it’s natural for a man to have an erection in the morning.”

“Is it natural to thrust it against your father’s ass?”

Hannibal let go of Will’s arm and snaked his hand into his hair. He pulled Will’s face toward his. He whispered in Will’s ear, “You can use me however you wish, Will.”

Will breathed out heavily and groaned, “Jesus, Hannibal. Don’t, don’t say that.”

“Why not? It is true. I am yours in any way that you want.”

Will’s panting in his ear was the most beautiful thing Hannibal had ever heard. His overheated skin was burning him everywhere they were connected. He could feel Will’s cock throbbing against him. He rotated his hips and pelvis to grind against him.

“God, don’t. Don’t do that,” Will was practically whining.

Hannibal stilled himself and allowed Will to pull his arm away this time. Will rolled over on his back and said, “Turn this way.”

Hannibal obediently rolled over to his other side to face Will who asked, “Do you want me to take care of this in the shower?”

“You never needed to do that. I do not mind changing sheets and there is lubricant in the drawer.”

“Will you stay?”

“Is that what you desire?”

Will firmly replied, “Yes.”

Will sat up and stripped off his undershirt and boxers. He looked at Hannibal and said, "You too."

Hannibal slipped off his pajama bottoms and boxer briefs. Will grabbed the bottle of lube and laid back down. He looked up and said, “Kiss me.”

Hannibal shivered; something had shifted in Will. His eyes burned with the desire he was clearly giving into. Hannibal leaned over him and grasped his head with his hands. He kissed Will’s forehead, then his cheekbones, and then his lips. He kissed him closemouthed and almost chastely as Will warmed up the lube on his fingers. As he started to stroke himself, he moaned, and Hannibal took the opportunity to slip his tongue between his lips. Will’s whole body jerked. Hannibal withdrew and started placing open mouthed kisses along Will’s neck. He enjoyed tasting him while Will let out wanton sounds. He moved his attentive mouth down Will’s clavicle and pecs. Will shouted when his mouth clamped down on his nipple. He started licking and sucking it.

One of his hands slid underneath Will and grabbed onto his ass. He pulled Will onto his side as he rolled back on to his, so that they were face to face. He started kissing Will passionately again. Will responded in kind. Will broke from him for a moment. His hand kept working himself as sat up and looked for the bottle of lube. He handed it to Hannibal with his free hand then laid back on his side, so that they were facing each other again. He tenderly pushed back the hair that had fallen over Hannibal eyes and said, “Touch yourself. I want us to come together.”

Will leaned in and kissed Hannibal as he started stroking himself. Will slowed down his own movements, wanting Hannibal to catch up to him. When Hannibal suddenly broke their kiss, he knew that he was close too. He pressed his forehead against Hannibal’s, his free hand cradled his skull as they both sped up their movements. Their heavy breathing, the sound of skin on skin and the creaking of the bed filled the room. The heat was coursing through his body, flushing his skin, his testicles were tightening and suddenly Hannibal was kissing him again and he started coming. Hannibal pulled away from his mouth and pressed his lip against Will’s neck trying to stifle his groans. Will felt Hannibal’s body jerk so hard when he came that it felt like he was convulsing.

Hannibal’s large hands wrapped around Will’s back and pulled him tightly against him. One hand glided up his back to cup the back of his head. Hannibal started to kiss him again, achingly tender. Will felt something wetting his cheeks. He opened his eyes and saw tears pressing out between Hannibal’s eye lids. He pulled back from him and Hannibal’s eyes fluttered open. Will leaned over and gently wiped the tears from his face and marveled at Hannibal’s trembling in response. He pushed Hannibal onto his back and then straddled him. Hannibal whimpered when Will’s cock brushed against his, the oversensitivity bordered on painful.

Will placed his hands on the bed on either side of his head and bent down to brush his lips against Hannibal’s teasingly. Then he covered his face with fleeting kisses, working his way from his brow to his chin. Then another teasing brush to his lips. He pulled away and gave a lazy smile before turning his attention to Hannibal’s neck, placing sucking kisses down the expanse of his throat. When he reached the scar where Abigail slashed him, he stopped to give it a reverent kiss. He continued his journey down Hannibal’s throat. When he playfully bit his Adam’s apple, Hannibal’s hips bucked involuntarily, and he let out a loud groan. Will gave a feral smile. He lifted his hand from the mattress and roughly pulled Hannibal’s head to the side. He slid his mouth to the side of his neck. Will clamped his open mouth down on the vulnerable skin. He sucked so hard that Hannibal had to grit his teeth to keep from yelping.

When Will finished, he let go of Hannibal’s head and kissed him gently once again on the lips. Then he leaned down and whispered in his ear, “When Alana comes for dinner tonight wear something open necked.”


	12. Irrevocable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hannibal, do you think we would be doing this if when my mom left, she had given me to you?”
> 
> Warning: Hannibal answers Will's question in depth--triggers for fantasies of underage sex and sexual grooming. This happens in the final section of the chapter.

Alana parked in front of Hannibal’s home and checked her hair and makeup in the rearview mirror of her car. Normally, dinner at Hannibal’s was a pleasure—incredible food accompanied by wonderful conversation. She would sous chef for him, drink the beer that he brewed himself and reserved for her and, sometimes, there was a small hope in her that their friendship would transcend into something more. Tonight, she had butterflies but not the good kind. The hostility that Will had displayed towards her at the hospital made her apprehensive about seeing him tonight.

She was surprised that he was still living at Hannibal’s. The recovery period for Encephalitis could be months, but at this point he didn’t need someone constantly caring for him. At the one-month mark, she had expected Will to return to his home, but Hannibal told her that he wanted to personally supervise Will’s physical therapy. But he didn’t need to live with Hannibal for that. She shook her head to clear her mind. Hannibal was expert at sensing people’s moods and thoughts. She didn’t want him to be privy to her disapproval of the situation. Even less so for Will to be.

She braced herself, got out of the car and made her way slowly to the door. She felt like she was being sent to the principal’s office without knowing what she had done wrong. Hannibal answered the door shortly after she knocked.

“Good evening, Alana”

It took a moment longer than it should have for her to return the greeting. Hannibal was wearing dark trousers and a grey V-neck sweater. She had never seen him dressed so casually. Then her eyes fixed on his neck. He had a hickey, bright purple and quite large. Hannibal having something that carnal and not even covering it was unbelievable. He gave her a sly smile when she mumbled back, “Good evening”.

Well-mannered as ever, he helped her off with her coat and hung it up for her. She couldn’t stop thinking about the bruise on his neck as they made their way to the kitchen. He wanted her to see it. There was no way around it. She involuntarily blushed. Had he intuited that she was interested in being more than friends? Was this his way of disabusing her of the notion that something could happen between them? She frowned, but that would be a humiliating way to do it. He would have just mentioned that he had someone in his life.

When they reached the kitchen, she finally spoke, “Would you like me to help with dinner?”

Then she saw Will, in one of Hannibal’s apron, chopping onions at the small kitchen island that she usually used. He flashed a smile and said in a pleasant tone, “I think Hannibal and I have it under control.”

Hannibal smiled graciously at her and gestured to a kitchen chair and said, “Please sit and relax, Alana, your Will’s and my guest. Would you like a beer or would you prefer wine?”

“Beer, please,” she turned to Will and said conversationally, “Hannibal has a reserve for me.”

Will bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile and replied, “He likes to make his friends feel special.”

To Alana’s annoyance, he emphasized the word ‘friends’.

As Hannibal handed her the beer, he gave Will an amused look and said, “Those need to be diced finer.”

“This is a fine as I can do.”

“Nonsense, Will, let me show you,” replied Hannibal. He turned to Alana and said with a wink, “He’s perfectly capable of doing it. He’s a stubborn boy.”

Alana smiled in a response, interested to see how Hannibal would handle the grumpy profiler. As he walked up to Will’s workspace, he offered the knife handle first to Hannibal.

“No, keep the knife, show me what you’re doing.”

Will started chopping again and Hannibal circled the table and stood directly behind him. Alana stared, transfixed, as the older man moved closer to Will, their bodies grazing. His arms circled around his son and he placed his hands over Will’s. He leaned his head over Will’s shoulder and said, “Let me guide your hands.”

Alana took a large gulp of her beer. The tutorial went on for quite some time. So long that Alana felt herself shifting uncomfortably in her chair and she had drunk almost all of her beer. Hannibal’s hands finally left Will’s but then drifted down to his hips which he grasped firmly as he praised him, “That’s perfect, William.”

He kissed the back of Will’s head and then turned to Alana and asked, “Would you like another beer while we finish preparing dinner?”

Alana started to nod and then forced herself to speak, “Thank you. That would be wonderful.”

Over Hannibal’s shoulder, Will gave her a smug smile.

To Alana’s amazement dinner was even more awkward then its preparation had been. In lieu of Hannibal’s usual elaborate centerpieces, there was an elegant, yet simple glass vase filed with long stemmed flowers. At the top of each stem was a single, brilliantly red flat heart-shaped petal with a large bright yellow spadix thrusting out of the center, which was possibly the most phallic thing outside of a dildo that Alana had ever seen.

Hannibal with a twitch of his lips inquired, “What do you think of the arrangement, Alana?”

Alana blinked at him and asked through clenched teeth, “What are they?”

“Anthurium, they symbolize hospitality.”

Will snorted. Hannibal frowned slightly at him. He turned to their guest and asked, “How are things at the BAU? Is Jack getting along without Will?”

“He has mentioned more than once that he wants Will back at work,” Alana gave a small wry smile and continued, “He’s impatient with his recovery time. I reminded him that he is capable of catching killers without him.”

“But it takes him considerably longer,” countered Hannibal, “Will has gift for seeing and trapping the monsters.”

“But at what cost?”

“Will’s disturbance was due to Encephalitis. He’s not a fragile little teacup that will break under the pressure of seeing the world through the eyes of a killer.”

Alana started to respond when Will spoke up, “I am actually sitting at this table. And I am perfectly capable of deciding when I will go back to the field.”

Alana said smoothly, “I assume that you won’t go back to work until you’re well enough to move back home.”

Will took a swallow of wine before he said, “I am recovered enough to go home. But that’s not happening. Molly and I are getting divorced.”

Alana stared blankly at Will from across the table. She looked over at Hannibal, seated at the head of the table between them. He was starring at Will, a smile on his lips. His eyes were shining, and Alana realized there were tears in them. Hannibal placed a hand over the one Will was resting on the table. Will smiled shyly back at him. He said gently to Hannibal, “I went over to Wolf Trap and saw Molly this morning when you were at the office.”

Alana blurted out, “What are you going do, Will? Didn’t you sell your old house?”

“Yes, I did,” he looked at Hannibal from under his eyelashes and said teasingly, “I guess I’ll have to find a hotel.”

Hannibal ran a thumb over Will’s hand and said, “Nonsense, dear boy, you can stay here as long as it pleases you.”

Alana looked down at her plate. They were only on the first course. She had no idea how she was going to make it through at least another hour of dining. Knowing Hannibal, two.

Alana woke up the next morning with a throbbing head. As soon as she sat up, her stomach rolled, and she barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up in the toilet. She managed to pull her hair back before she bent over the bowl. She hadn’t been that drunk in years, but as dinner rolled on and Hannibal and Will’s dynamic grew weirder, she only had two choices, the one she desperately had wanted to do, which was to scream at them, “What the fuck is going on?” Or, two, drink enough to keep herself from doing choice one. She could barely walk by the time they had finished the coffee. He wound up having to call a cab for her. She slumped against the side of the bathtub, fuck, she was going to have to go pick up her car.

As she showered, she decided to take a cab over to Hannibal’s to retrieve her car without disturbing him or Will. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted to see either of them again. She thought about Molly. Should she call? She wanted to reach out, but it would be weird to tell her that she found out about the divorce last night over dinner. But she didn’t just want to see Molly to comfort her. Molly had plenty of friends for that. But they each had something only the other one had, they both knew Will and Hannibal and their connection.

Once Alana was dressed and managed to stomach a cup of coffee, she texted Molly, “I need some fresh air. Too much to drink last night at dinner with Hannibal and Will. Are you up for a visit?”

She was surprised by Molly’s quick response, “Yes.”

Alana responded, “I’ll be there in an hour.”

Alana retrieved her car without encountering Will or Hannibal. She drove out to Will’s and Molly’s home with the windows open, hoping the cold air would help her hangover.

When she arrived, Molly was sitting on a chair on the front porch, wearing a flannel robe and UGG boots. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed. She was drinking out of a champagne flute. A bottle of orange juice and another of champagne were sitting on a table next to her. Alana walked up the stairs and sat in the chair on the other side of the table from Molly.

Molly tipped her glass at Alana and asked, “Hair of the dog?”

Alana nodded and Molly mixed a mimosa, extremely light on the orange juice, and handed it to her. They sat quietly for a moment, looking out into the woods.

“I bought the champagne for Will’s coming home dinner.”

Alana took a long drink of her mimosa and tried to think of a response.

“Did Will tell you that we were getting divorced?”

“He told both Hannibal and me last night at dinner.”

“How did Hannibal react?”

Alana took a big breath and blew it out through pursed lips before responding, “He had tears in his eyes.”

Molly turned her head and captured Alana’s gaze with hers and replied cynically, “Tears of joy.”

Alana gave an involuntarily snort which she instantly regretted. She said, “I am sorry Molly, I shouldn’t have laughed.”

“It’s OK. I laugh inappropriately at times too. Usually when I’m uncomfortable about a situation. Were you uncomfortable last night with Hannibal and Will?”

Alana worried her bottom lip with her teeth. As she started to speak, Molly interrupted her before she could get a word out, “Don’t be kind to me. I don’t need kindness. I don’t want to be comforted. I need to know whether or not I’m being crazy.”

She added, “About Will and Hannibal.”

Alana took another drink to brace herself. She started to speak, her hands clenching and unclenching nervously, “I don’t know how to say this. I am usually so sure about handling situations to help someone. But I don’t think there is a right way with this.”

“Be honest.”

“When I got there, Hannibal greeted me at the door. He was wearing a V-neck sweater which is completely out of character. He was showing off a hickey.”

Molly flinched.

“I thought it was his way of telling me he was in a relationship. I have always been interested in more than friendship, and he’s never talked about having a romantic partner or even dating. Then when I went into the kitchen, Will was there helping with dinner. He made it clear to me that Hannibal wasn’t remotely interested in me.”

“Is that why you were uncomfortable?”

“No, it was the way that they interacted. Hannibal couldn’t keep his hands off him. I have never seen him like that. He never touches anyone beyond handshakes and kisses hello.”

Molly tilted her head back and look up into the eaves overhanging the porch and asked, “There’s no way that Hannibal would be having wild sex with someone while Will was staying in his house. So where did the hickey come from?”

Molly drained her glass and mixed herself another drink. She looked questioningly at Alana who nodded. Molly mixed another one for her.

Alana shifted in her seat and then asked, “What do you think, Molly?”

“I think that my husband has been shifty about his relationship with his newly discovered biological father since the start, that Hannibal manipulated Will’s illness to move him into his house, that they have physical contact that makes other people squirm, and that on the same the day that Will told me he wanted a divorce, Hannibal had a love bite on his neck. You’re a profiler, what does the evidence tell you?”

Alana shook her head vigorously and said, “No. There has to be another explanation.”

“Really? Because Will has changed since he’s known Hannibal. You should have seen him yesterday. He was so cold. I asked him about marriage counseling and he just shook his head. He wasn’t here to talk about getting a divorce, he was telling me we were getting divorced. He had made the decision and that was that. And how I felt was of no consequence. I mean, not just that he didn’t care if I wanted to get divorced or not, but about how his leaving would affect me. How it would impact Wally. He just fucking walked back to his car, like we were nothing, like the last three years were nothing.”

Molly fought back her tears and continued, ”All I could think was ‘What happened to my Will?’ and then I realized something horrible. He was never my Will, the man I was married to wasn’t real. He was always pretending.”

Alana swallowed hard and said in a tremulous voice, “That’s what I figured out last night about Hannibal. Hannibal has changed drastically since he’s met Will. I kept rationalizing things, but I had to admit it to myself last night. Every tender or kind emotion that I have ever seen Hannibal display, he used to get what he wanted. I couldn’t see it until I saw him with Will. The way he looks at him is real. And it is scary, Molly, because its obsessive and Will looks at him the same way.”

Molly tented her hands over nose and mouth and started crying. Alana got out of her chair and went to her. She pulled Molly up out of her chair and hugged her tightly. Molly threw her arms around Alana’s neck and sobbed into her shoulder. After several minutes, Molly tilted her head to look into Alana’s eyes. Alana looked down into Molly’s incredulous face and felt her own tears start. Molly whispered, “My husband left me for his father.”

Will was woken from a heavy slumber by an alarm going off. He rolled over and squinted at the clock on the bedside table. It read 6:00 a.m. Hannibal must have set it when he put him to bed last night. He had been so groggy that he could barely stand. Strange, he hadn’t even had that much to drink. Maybe the Encephalitis compromised his alcohol tolerance more than he realized. A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Hannibal must have timed his arrival to the second. Will smiled.

“Come in.”

Hannibal entered carrying a bed tray laden with a bowl of strawberries and a large mug of what was presumably coffee. In an adoring tone he said softly, “Good morning, Will.”

Will propped up a few pillows against the headboard in the middle of the bed and settled himself into a comfortable seated position. Hannibal put the tray over his legs. Will took a long drink of coffee while Hannibal settled himself on the bed. One leg folded in front of him and the other bent off the bed, so that he could face Will. He picked up a strawberry from the bowl. He pushed the berry to Will’s lips and said, “Open.”

Will opened his mouth and took a bite of the fruit purposely grazing Hannibal’s fingers. Hannibal’s eyes fluttered. Will firmly grasped Hannibal’s wrist and took two more bites to finish. When Hannibal started to pull his hand away, Will’s grip tightened, and he started to lick the fingers that Hannibal used to hold the fruit. Hannibal moaned softly. Will let go of his wrist and moved the tray to the nightstand. He leaned over and started kissing Hannibal. When Will started loosening his tie, Hannibal shrugged his jacket off and let it slide to the floor. Will started unbuttoning his waistcoat while Hannibal took off his belt. Hannibal slid off the bed to stand next to it.

Will watched as Hannibal divested himself of his remaining clothing. He never broke eye contact with Will as he dropped each piece of clothing onto the floor. Will blinked and swallowed when he removed his underwear. Hannibal pulled back the covers off the bed completely. He pulled off Will’s undershirt. Will raised his hips to allow him to remove his boxers. Hannibal asked hoarsely, “Where do you want me?”

Will scooted forward in the bed and told him, “Get behind me.”

Hannibal moved in gracefully behind Will, assuming the place Will had just vacated, his back against the pillows, legs spread and bent at the knee. Will settled in front of Hannibal between his legs, pressing his back against his chest. The hair on the other man’s chest scratched his back. It was strange but exciting. Will bent each of his legs over Hannibal’s thighs. He placed his hands on the bed on either side of Hannibal’s hips. His head tilted back against Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal nuzzled his neck and whispered, “What to do with such a beautiful offering?”

Will moaned softly in response. Hannibal started kissing his neck and running his hands over Will’s body. He moved his hands slowly over his boy’s skin. First down and then back up his arms, delighting in every shiver and soft sigh from Will. He slid his hands down Will’s sides and back up. He looked down at Will’s rapidly hardening cock. He brushed his fingertips across his pecs and then ghosted them across his nipples making Will tilt his head back and cry out. Hannibal rubbed both nipples with his thumbs, enjoying how Will twitched and squirmed. His right hand slowly moved down Will’s torso as the fingers of his left hand continued to tease his nipple.

His hand stopped right below Will’s navel and he ran his fingers up and down the coarse hair that trailed down to his pelvis. He said huskily, “Be a good boy and get the lube for me.”

Will bit his lip to keep from whimpering as he retrieved the small black bottle from the nightstand. He settled back against Hannibal once he took possession of the bottle. He poured out a generous amount into his right hand. He gripped Will’s hip tightly with his left hand and started to run his fingers lightly up and down Will’s cock. Then he used his entire hand to slick Will’s length with the lube. He gave him a few tight strokes and Will let out a whimper.

“Is that good?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal began to stroke and tease the head. Will arched back and grabbed the back of Hannibal’s skull and let out a loud groan. Hannibal smiled into his neck and switched to stroking his shaft rhythmically.

“Hannibal, do you think we would be doing this if when my mom left, she had given me to you?”

Hannibal shuddered and his hand stopped moving for a moment. As he started pleasuring Will again, he replied, “Yes, but we would have started much sooner.”

Will’s hips jerked and he let out a loud, “Fuck.”

“Did you think it would have stopped me, darling boy?” he broke off to nip at Will’s earlobe before continuing, “Do you know what exquisite torture it would have been to watch you slowly growing towards manhood under my roof?”

Hannibal started concentrating his efforts on the head again as he continued speaking, “When you were younger, I would have nurtured the darkness in you, freeing you to become what you wanted. As you grew older you would have become more and more confident. But once you started puberty, I would no longer be able to confine my interest to your wonderful, complicated mind. You wouldn’t realize at first what you were doing to me.”

Will was breathing harder and whining as Hannibal kept stroking him. Hannibal’s accent and breathing grew heavier as he continued, “The first time that you had a nightmare, I would have insisted that you sleep in my bed so that I could soothe you if needed. Of course, when you grew older, when your hormones started driving you wild you couldn’t do anything about it because I was there. Then finally one night, you would cry out and wake me up. Your underwear would be soaked with your release.”

Will’s grip tightened in Hannibal’s hair and his hips thrust forward. Hannibal used his left hand to push on Will’s pelvic belly to keep him still. He resumed talking, “You would be scared and confused. I would put my arms around you and reassure you that it was natural, part of growing up. Then every night I would kiss you goodnight a little less chastely, touch you a little longer. Until finally, I would be touching you the way I am now.”

Will shuddered and Hannibal continued, “I would teach you to love your body that way you learnt to love your mind. Your eagerness to explore sexual pleasure would ignite such a flame in me that my mind would drift constantly to all the ways I could have you. I would barely be able to focus on my patients during their sessions.”

Will was thrashing now, desperate to come. Hannibal slowed down his strokes and loosened his grip as he continued, “You would be much too young to penetrate.”

“Oh, God.”

“So, I would have to content myself with using my tongue to teach you how much pleasure your prostate could bring you.”

“No one’s ever done that to me.”

“Oh, my darling boy, that’s why you should have always been mine.”

Will tilted his head back and Hannibal kissed him tenderly on the lips. Then he began speaking again, “While I waited for you to be old enough for me to have, I would teach you how to make love to me. How to use your mouth on me, how to open me up until I was begging you to fuck me. And I would have, Will, you would have had me so hungry for you that I would be crying.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Hannibal’s grip on Will tightened and he increased the speed of his strokes. He was panting out his words now.

“I would teach you how to stimulate my prostrate with every thrust until I orgasamed from that alone. When you felt me tightening around you, squeezing your cock so perfectly as I climaxed, you would lose all your control and fuck me like an animal until you came inside of me.”

Will groaned, he was so close. He swallowed hard and asked roughly, “What if I brought home a girl for you to meet?”

“Oh, my little love, I would use my words to manipulate her into parting from you.”

Will panted out, “What if that didn’t work? What if she wouldn’t let me go?”

Hannibal whispered in his ear, “I would kill her with my bare hands.”

Will came with a scream. As he gasped for breath, Hannibal pulled him firmly against his body, and pressed kisses onto his neck. They stayed like that until Will’s breathing regulated. Will turned around to look Hannibal in the eyes before he commanded, “Change places with me.”

Hannibal obeyed. Once they were settled with Hannibal in front of him, Will tilted Hannibal’s head to the side, so that he could kiss him. He caressed Hannibal’s torso, then his hips and then he slid his hands over his thighs. He ran them back up along his adductors. He stopped kissing Hannibal and said, “I want to make you come. You know that I’ve never been with a man before.”

Hannibal preened at Will’s semi-confession.

“Guide my hands the way you did last night when we were making dinner.”

Hannibal picked up the lube and coated Will’s right hand and fingers. He guided Will’s hand to his shaft. Will gasped when he felt Hannibal’s foreskin.

“It’s silky.”

Hannibal smiled and used Will’s hand to stroke his foreskin back and forth over his head which was already leaking copiously. He let go of Will’s hands once he found his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that.”

Hannibal moved Will’s other hand bellow his testicles and said breathily, “Press on my perineum with your fingers. Not too hard.”

Will followed Hannibal’s directions and was rewarded with loud groaning. Hannibal’s head tilted back, and he clutched the sheets tightly with his hands. Will had never been as aroused as he was when Hannibal started begging, “Faster”. Will tightened his hand and moved it rapidly up and down Hannibal’s shaft. Hannibal’s whole body tensed, and it sounded like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. Then he froze completely. He released with a shout. Will gently let go of his spent cock and slid his fingers away from his perineum. He wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s chest and tilted his head so that he could rub his check against Hannibal’s.

Will let out a frustrated growl when his cell phone rang.

He looked over at the display and saw it was from Jack. He sighed and grabbed the phone.

“Hello, Jack.”

“We need you, Will. It’s The Ripper.”


	13. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will’s jaw clenched and he looked down at the floor, quiet for a moment. He looked up at Jack and met his eyes as he spoke, “Does that mean that he is incapable of love? Am I merely something to be possessed to him? Is he still a man or a just a predator?”

Will and Hannibal drove in comfortable silence to the crime scene in Alexandria, VA. The entrance to the Basilica of Saint Mary was cordoned off. Will flashed his badge at the local PD officer who nodded and let both Hannibal and him into the church. There was no need for them to be led to The Ripper’s display, they could seed it from the doors. The body lay prostrated in front of the sanctuary. Will drew closer to examine the body. Male, tall and broad, and dressed in an obviously expensive suit. His arms were stretched above his head, his hands grasped a human heart, an offering to the crucified Christ hanging on the back wall of the sanctuary.

“Can I move the body?”

“Yes,” responded Jack, “We have everything that we need.”

Will rolled the body onto its side. The chest was opened with both the lungs and the heart missing.

“The heart he is holding is his own. The lungs are missing as well. Chances are that the heart and lungs were taken while the victim was still alive. Do we have an I.D. yet on the body?”

Jimmy Price answered, “No wallet. We’ll have to hope for a hit when we run the fingerprints.”

Will nodded. He looked at Jack expectantly. Jack gestured everyone to the back of the church. Hannibal seated him self in the first pew on the right hand row. Will closed his eyes. Five minutes later he opened them. He turned around and looked at Hannibal. Hannibal’s eyes met his. Will’s face was completely blank. He looked away from his father and gestured for Jack and the team to join him.

Jack asked, “Is it the Ripper?”

Will sighed, “Yes, Jack.”

“So?”

Will gave an impatient snort and started to elaborate, “In his last tableau, I was represented by Christ. This time, the victim represents The Ripper. On Good Friday, Catholic priests prostrate themselves at the foot of the altar, an act of complete worship of the crucified Christ who gave his life for man’s salvation. I am The Ripper’s salvation, but not from sin. The laws of God and man do not apply to him, so he doesn’t require anyone to take on the burden of his sins.”

Will stopped. He closed his eyes and swallowed. He opened them and Hannibal was shocked by the pain in his face. He continued speaking, ”He is offering me his heart, a declaration of romantic love. In Catholicism, God, Christ and the Holy Spirit comprise the Trinity, they are both the same and separate. I am the god that he worships.”

Beverly, Jimmy and Brian stared at the profiler wide-eyed. Jack cleared his throat and asked, “The Ripper is in love with you?”

Before Will could speak, Hannibal did, “Yes. Obsessively, it would appear.”

Will didn’t look at Hannibal as he spoke. The silence stretched out uncomfortably. Jack broke it with, “Is there anything else you can tell us, Will?”

Will spoke quietly, “There are no flowers, no hidden meanings. He wants me to know that he is completely sincere in his declaration. He has no ulterior motives for this display. This killing was in no way for his own pleasure.”

“Why take the lungs then,” asked Hannibal.

“To remind me of The Minnesota Shrike case. He fell in love with me then.”

Jack protested, “Love? He’s a psychopath, Will.”

Will’s jaw clenched and he looked down at the floor, quiet for a moment. He looked up at Jack and met his eyes as he spoke, “Does that mean that he is incapable of love? Am I merely something to be possessed to him? Is he still a man or a just a predator?”

Will took off his glasses and pushed his palms against his closed eyes. Hannibal went to him and put his hand in between his shoulder blades. He asked in a worried tone, “Are you alright, Will?”

Will put his glasses back on and Hannibal could see tears shimmering in his eyes. Will closed his them again and said, “Please take me home.”

Hannibal replied, “Of course.”

Jack held up a hand to stop them and said, “Will, I am concerned about your safety. I want to have a 24-hour watch on your house. They’ll be there by the time that you arrive in Wolf Trap. It would be a good idea to go ahead and call Molly now, so she’s not surprised when they show up.”

“I’m not staying in Wolf Trap.”

Jack’s brow wrinkled and he said, “But you got out of the hospital two months ago.”

Hannibal replied, “I take it Alana didn’t tell you when you were discussing Will’s recuperation, but he moved in with me temporarily. I am overseeing his recovery.”

Jack nodded. He swallowed down his questions and said, “Then will have our men placed at Hannibal’s.”

Will said shortly, “No.”

“Are you refusing FBI protection? The man’s a serial killer and he’s obsessed with you, Will.”

“He won’t hurt me. If I were still living in Wolf Trap, he might do something to Molly and Wally. Get rid of them.”

“ Then we should get someone out there immediately, Will.”

Will shrugged and said, “He won’t go after them now.”

“Just because you’re not there? That’s ridiculous.”

“No, because I’ve left them. But, if it will make you feel better, Jack. Go ahead.”

Jimmy, Brian and Beverly exchanged looks. Beverly muttered, “Wow,” under her breath.

Hannibal took advantage of Jack’s shock to escort Will out of the church. He opened the passenger door to the Bentley for him. As he slid behind the wheel of the car, Will put his hand on his arm. When he turned to face him, Will looked disturbed and didn’t speak. Hannibal gently cupped his check and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I need to go to my stream. Are you ok with that? I’ll be there the whole ride back.”

Hannibal kissed him on the crown of his head. He inhaled and couldn’t smell fear which soothed him. He pulled away and said, “Of course, my love.”

As he started the car, Will settled back into his seat, and closed his eyes.

Alana woke up with a start when her cell phone rang. She had been sleeping in her clothes including her high heels on top of the quilt on Will’s and Molly’s bed. Molly was next to her, also on top of the quilt, still in her robe and boots. After following up their mimosas with shots of bourbon, they both threw in the towel and went to bed. Molly glared, eyes still half shut, at Alana’s phone. She croaked out, “Who is it?”

Alana looked at the screen and said, “Jack Crawford.”

Molly shook her and mumbled, “Of course, it fucking is.”

With that she rolled over on her side away from the sight of the phone. Alana picked up with an annoyed, “Hello, Jack.”

“Yes, I knew.”

“Because I didn’t think you needed to know.”

“Yes, I know that too.”

“I only just found out last night. And, once again, I felt no need to tell you.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Because I am drunk.”

“Yes, I know it’s early.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about Will.”

“Yes, that is quite a change.”

“Because he’s a dick. And, again, none of your business. But the fact that I am out in Wolf Trap with Molly should give you an idea of where my loyalty lays.”

“What?”

“When can they get out here?”

“Good.”

“No, Wally’s not here.”

“No. Tell them to drive us to my place. I’ll have her stay with me for now.”

“Good-bye, Jack.”

Molly had managed to sit up as she grew progressively more worried at Alana’s half of the conversation. She looked at her and asked, “What’s going on?”

Alana took her hand and squeezed it before she spoke, “The Ripper has left Will a declaration of love, a murdered man in a church. Jack’s worried that he might come after you. He’s sending out a couple of agents. He wanted them to stake out your house to protect you. But I think you should come stay with me instead and have them drive us there.”

“What about Wally?”

Alana said, “If you want us to stop and pick up Wally from your parents, we can. I can have both of you, it’s not a problem. But I think he’s safer with your folks.”

“Why?”

Alana looked at Molly and squeezed her hand again, “I think that The Ripper would see you as the threat. If you are divided, he’s going to go after you and not Wally.”

“And your willing to have me in your home, when I’m the possible target of a serial killer?”

“I live in an apartment building with a doorman and security cameras in the city. A much harder target than you in the middle of nowhere.”

It only took a moment for Molly to decide. She said, “I’ll come with you. I am going to have my parents take Wally out to their summer place in Cape May."

“I’ll call Jack and ask him to give them a protective detail. They can escort them all the way there and keep the house covered. ”

As he said he would, Will remained in his stream until they reached home. Hannibal, for the first time in an exceptionally long time, was worried. He despised this feeling of vulnerability. He had no idea what Will was thinking or feeling. He had learned how to read people, to understand their wants and desires, and to use them to manipulate them to do what he wanted. Sometimes for a purpose, but often just for fun. He had no desire to do so with Will. He had never prized anyone else’s wants or desires over his own before. With no effort, Will humbled him, made him a man like any other.

After he parked the car, he went around it to open the door for Will. His son opened his eyes and looked at him curiously. He remained silent until they were in the house and Hannibal was helping him off with his coat.

“I want you to show me how you love me.”

Hannibal gave Will a puzzled look as he hung up his coat. He swallowed and said, “I don’t understand, Will.”

Will kissed him softly on the mouth. Then he pulled back and put his hands on either side of Hannibal’s face and said, “Physically. Show me how you love me.”

Hannibal kissed him tentatively. After he broke the kiss, he asked, “What do you want?”

Will shook his head, “I don’t want to tell you what to do.”

“Darling, you need to set some boundaries for me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No penetration. Either way.’

Hannibal nodded and brushed an errant curl from Will’s forehead back into place. He asked, “Anything else?’

“There’s things that I am not going to be able to reciprocate.”

“What ever you can give me will be enough.”

He kissed Will again, sweetly and chastely. Then he took his hand and led him upstairs.

Hannibal pulled out a thick, white Turkish cotton robe and draped it on the bed. He slowly undressed Will. As soon as he finished, he wrapped his boy up in the robe, so that he wouldn’t be cold even for a second. He carefully hung up Will’s clothes in his closet and put his underthings in a hamper concealed in a small closet. As he undressed himself, Will eyes moved to stare at the wall instead of Hannibal. He didn’t put on a robe. Nude, he put all his discarded clothing in their proper places. He inhaled subtly, Will was aroused but also anxious.

He walked over to Will who was still not making eye contact with him. He put his hands on either side of his face and kissed him. The kiss felt worshipful to Will. He relaxed and let his mind open up to Hannibal’s. His eyes and mouth opened at the same time. Hannibal slipped his tongue into his mouth and his own eyes opened. He felt completely bared under his beautiful boy’s gaze. Will was seeing his very soul. He continued kissing him, amazed and hopeful when Will didn’t push him away.

Hannibal broke this kiss and led Will into the en suite. As he turned on the water in the shower, he could feel Will looking at him now, examining his body from head to toe. Will approached him from behind as he held his hand into the steaming water to check the temperature. Hannibal felt the blood rushing through his body, flushing his skin, when Will traced his spine with his fingertips. He paused when he reached Hannibal’s sacrum. He pressed it with his palm and kissed the back of his neck. Hannibal whimpered his name. Then he took a deep breath and turned around to face him.

Hannibal kissed him again and then stepped into the shower. Will took his outstretched hand and let himself be pulled in. They embraced under the rain shower head. Hannibal had one arm wrapped around Will’s waist. His free hand roamed up his back. His hand fisted into Will’s dripping curls as he kissed him lazily. Will lost all sense of time as they stood there kissing. Hannibal broke away from him gently and reached past him to retrieve a bottle of body wash. Hannibal lathered some in his hands. He cupped his hands and leaned his nose into them, inhaling deeply.

“I designed this scent for you. I think it will blend beautifully with your own. Please turn around.”

Will obeyed. Hannibal began washing him, starting with his neck. When he moved to his shoulders, he felt the ever-present tension in Will’s muscles. He started to massage them firmly with his powerful hands. Will’s head dropped forward, and he let out a sound that was both relief and arousal. Hannibal’s hand moved down his deltoids. He whispered in his ear, “Lean against the wall.”

Will pressed his hands against the wall, partially leaning over. Hannibal massage his back until Will felt boneless. His father went back to washing him from his shoulders to his waist. Hannibal grabbed a handheld shower head from the wall of the shower and carefully rinsed him off. Then he knelt and placed the bottle of cleanser next to his knees.

“Raise your foot.”

Will complied and Hannibal massaged his foot carefully then washed and rinsed it and then repeated the same process with his other foot. Then he cleansed him from his ankle all the way up the top of the leg where it met his ass. He relished Will’s shaky exhale when he reached the top and caressed him there briefly. He then gave the other leg the same loving treatment. He kissed each of Will’s checks reverently before standing up. His darling boy’s breathing was labored, and the musky scent of his arousal had Hannibal’s cock throbbing. He took a steadying breath and started massaging the soap into both of Will’s buttocks. Will let out a loud, “Oh, God,” at his firm touch.

Hannibal rinsed him off and said, “Turn around.”

Will did. He looked drugged as if he were in an opium den instead of a shower. Hannibal smiled as he lathered his hands. He ran them over Will’s throat and down his chest, stopping to tease his nipples with deft fingers, before trailing his hands down to Will’s abs which clenched as he moved down towards his pelvis. Will let out a low groan as Hannibal’s teased the skin along the edge of his pubic hair. He withdrew his hands and soaped them up again.

Will groaned loudly as he slid his fingers under Will’s testicles, soaping up his perineum. Will positively howled when the spray hit the delicate area as Hannibal rinsed him off. As gently as possible, Hannibal washed his testicles. Then he washed his pelvis just above his cock. Will rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal savored the touch of Will’s face on his shoulder. The sounds he made were divine. Then his soapy hand slipped around Will’s erection and he pressed his forehead into the side of Hannibal’s neck. He moaned as Hannibal half pumped his cock. Hannibal let him go slowly and rinsed him off.

He pulled him into a tight embrace and looked down at his boy whose brilliant blue eyes were feral with lust. Hannibal kissed him gently. He shut off the water and helped him out of the shower. He carefully dried off every inch of his skin and then wrapped him back into the robe. He sat him down on the toilet to wait as he dried himself off. He led Will by the hand back to the bedroom to the edge of the bed. Hannibal pulled the duvet and sheets back, folding them neatly at the foot of the bed.

He kissed Will as he unbelted and then slid his robe off. He said hoarsely, “Get in bed. Lie on your back.”

Will positioned himself in the middle of the bed. He luxuriated in impossible softly sheets and arranged a pillow under his head.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Spread your legs for me.”

Will bent his knees and opened up his legs to accommodate Hannibal. He sat himself in between Will legs with his own tucked under him. He ran his hands over Will’s inner things, causing him to moan. He had planned to kiss every inch of his boy’s skin from his scalp to the bottoms of his feet, but he couldn’t wait. He bent over Will and ran his tongue along the prominent vein that ran up Will’s shaft. Will bucked his hips involuntary and his hands clutched the sheet. Hannibal pinned his hips down with his hands to hold his boy in place as he took the tip of his cock in his mouth.

He ran his tongue around, exploring the texture and taste, as well as enjoy the high-pitched whines that Will was emitting, more wonderful than any piece of music that he had ever heard. When his curiosity was finally sated, he pulled off and Will groaned with frustration. Hannibal peppered his erection with butterfly kisses. He then stuck his nose in the pubic hair around the base of Will’s cock and inhaled deeply. Will watched in astonishment as Hannibal tilted his head back, eyes closed, beatific from the scent. He looked down at Will and smiled.

Then he bent back over and took him in his mouth again and started sucking in earnest. Hannibal again pinned Will’s hips to the mattress with his hands. Will pushed himself up onto his elbows to watch Hannibal as he pleasured him. The sight overwhelmed him, and he felt his whole body start to tighten. He could hear himself panting. Hannibal looked up at Will and when their eyes met, Will saw utter devotion, wild lust, and a frightening possessiveness. He belonged to Hannibal and Hannibal belonged to him. He cradled the back of Hannibal’s skull and tangled his fingers in his hair. He let go of everything except Hannibal’s mouth on him and the resulting, beautiful chaos in his body. His orgasm ripped through him.

“Oh, God. I love you. I love you.”

Hannibal gently let Will slip from his mouth. He savored Will’s release for a few moments before swallowing it. He and Will moved in tandem, so that both laid on their sides facing each other. Hannibal took Will’s hand in his and for a while they lost themselves in each other’s eyes.

Hannibal asked, “Did you feel my love for you?”

“Yes.”

Will smiled. Then he frowned and Hannibal tensed. His boy gave him a wry smile, “I feel selfish. I should.”

He looked down at Hannibal’s cock and saw that it was flaccid. He looked back up at him, bewildered. Hannibal smiled and kissed him tenderly. He said softly, “I climaxed when you said that you loved me.”

Will smiled lazily and teased, “You haven’t told me yet.”

Hannibal reached out and put his hand on Will’s cheek and said, “I love you, Will. You are everything.”

Hannibal rolled onto his back and Will snuggled up against his side and laid his head on Hannibal’s chest. They fell asleep within minutes.

A few hours later, he woke up. Will was propped up against the headboard, glaring at his tablet. Hannibal sat up and leaned over to see what had him so angry. TattleCrime, of course. THE RIPPER OFFERS HIS HEART TO UNSTABLE FBI AGENT. Hannibal ran his hand down Will’s arm in a soothing gesture and kissed him on the top of his head.

“Anything that I can do?”

Will shook his head and put the tablet on the nightstand. He said ruefully, “I woke up thirsty. I went to the kitchen to get water and picked up the tablet on the way back, so I could read until I was sleepy again. Bad choice of websites.”

He pointed to the night table on Hannibal’s side of the bed and said, “I got you one, too,”

Hannibal stilled as he looked over at the glass of water. He picked it up and turned around to Will. He quietly said, “Thank you.”

As he put the glass up to his lips to drink, he smelt the sedative that he used on his pigs.

He drank it. 


	14. Becoming

Hannibal laid in his bed, still groggy from the sedative that Will had slipped into his water the night before. He would need to teach Will about calibrating doses correctly. He had anticipated the possibility of waking up in prison or strapped to his own kill table. He managed to open his eyes fully when Will came out of the en suite with only a towel around his waist to cover him. Water dripped from his curls. Tantalizing.

Will’s eyes gleamed as he spoke teasingly, “Good morning, father.”

His words shot straight to Hannibal’s groin. Wicked boy.

“Good morning, Will.”

Will perched on the bed and then leaned over to kiss Hannibal. He responded by pulling Will down into a tight embrace. Will pushed himself away using Hannibal’s shoulders for leverage. He quickly straddled him. He planted his hands on either side of Hannibal’s head and his knees on either side of his hips. He gave a lusty roll of hips. Hannibal grabbed his ass firmly as he pushed his pelvis into Will’s in response. Will started kissing up the side of his neck and when he reached the top, he kissed him behind his ear. Then he whispered, “I want to make dinner for you tonight.”

Will gave Hannibal an amused look when his body and faced stiffened at the thought of anyone, even Will, using his kitchen. He rolled his hips again and whispered seductively, “Don’t worry. We’ll use the house in Wolf Trap, Molly is holed up with Alana in her apartment and Wally is with his grandparents.”

Hannibal closed his eyes and inhaled. He could smell Will’s arousal but also excitement. He was up to something beyond making dinner. Clever boy that he was, he made sure to shower before he approached him, so he would have no clue as to Will’s activities in the early hours of this morning.

“Are you courting me, Will?”

“Yes,” Will answered breathily. He kissed him again and continued, “Be there at 8:00 sharp. You don’t want your dinner to be cold.”

“You won’t allow me the pleasure of watching you cook?"

“I want to surprise you.”

Hannibal traced Will’s scar lightly with his fingertips. His tongue darted out and licked his own lip for a second. It exhilarated and frightened him that he could never fully predict Will. His boy took mercy on him and said reassuringly, ”Don’t worry, it’ll be the good kind of surprise.”

Will kissed his forehead and maneuvered himself off Hannibal. As he tried to get out of the bed, Hannibal grabbed him. He moved so swiftly that Will didn’t have a chance to react. Hannibal ripped off his towel and pinned him to the bed. Will was on fire from Hannibal’s display of speed and strength. He knew he should be afraid instead of turned on. Will wrapped his arms around him tightly anyway. He kissed Hannibal harshly, shoving his tongue between his lips. Will kept his eyes open, delighting in watching his descent into raw passion. His usually perfectly coiffed hair was slipping into his eyes and he was rutting against Will like a wild beast. He nipped at Will’s tongue with his teeth, not breaking the skin, but close. His strong hands grasped Will’s cheeks and pulled away from the kiss.

His eyes were stormy, pupils so wide that they looked black. He locked eyes with Will who felt helpless under their power. Hannibal leaned in, so that their noses almost brushed. He whispered huskily, “Make me yours, Will.”

Will exhaled loudly. His body was screaming to obey, to flip Hannibal on his hands and knees and take him like he had the Wendigo in his dream. He let out a frustrated whine. He pressed his forehead against Hannibal’s. He said gently, “I want to so badly.”

He slipped Hannibal’s hand from his face and placed it on his fully erect cock, he didn’t want him to have any doubts about his desire for him. He continued, “But I don’t want us to be interrupted. The first time I make love to you, I want to take my time.”

Hannibal made a sound between a groan of desire and a resigned sigh. He tilted Will’s chin with his finger and kissed him tenderly on the lips. “What are you hiding from me, dear boy?”

Will smiled smugly and said, “I have a feeling Jack will be calling me in on a case very soon.”

Hannibal kissed his forehead and said, “Then I better make your breakfast. I don’t want you working on nothing but that abysmal FBI coffee.”

The ringing of Jack’s cell phone interrupted his and Bella’s early morning snuggling. Bella sighed and Jack let out a gruff, “God dammit.”

After a few moments on the phone, he leaned over and kissed his wife on the forehead gently and said, “Sorry, baby, it’s the Baltimore PD, they think they have a Ripper murder.”

Bella smiled wryly and asked, “Do you think that you’ll be home for dinner?”

“Depends. Sometimes the locals see The Ripper everywhere. Especially, when he’s been active.”

Jack got himself ready, kissed her goodbye and drove out to the crime scene.

He arrived at St. Mary’s park within an hour of the phone call. He spotted a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye. Wonderful, Freddie Lounds. A tall, thin middle age man in a cheap suit held out a hand. As they shook, he introduced himself as Detective Polhaus. He looked haggard from a lack of sleep and the impact of what must be an exceptionally gruesome killing. As they approached the scene, Jack saw a body hanging from the branch of a tree near the old seminary’s chapel. As he came closer, he saw that the body had been gutted. He looked up at the face of the victim and let out a gasp.

The local homicide detective looked at him sharply and said, “Sir?”

It took him a few moments before he could find his voice, “He’s one of ours.”

“An FBI agent?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus, that’s bold.”

Jack swallowed and turned his back on the body. With shaking hands, he called the Bureau and requested a different forensic team than Katz, Price and Zeller. As soon as he hung up, he called Will and demanded that he come to the scene immediately.

As Hannibal drove Will to the crime scene, the profiler remained quiet. He didn’t elaborate on his phone call with Jack. After he hung up, he asked Hannibal, with a strange little smile on his face, to come with him. When they arrived at the scene, the police clearly had their hands full keeping back the gawkers. As Will stepped out of the car door that Hannibal held open for him, his visage changed from amused to neutral. Jack spotted them and strode over to Will. He grasped Will’s arm and said softly, “Prepare yourself, Will, it’s brutal.”

They crossed the barrier and walked to the tree where the body hung. Hannibal snapped his head to look at Will whose expression was completely blank as he gazed at the disemboweled body of Brian Zeller.

Jack addressed Will hoarsely, “I am sorry to do this to you, Will, but I need you to look.”

Will looked away from the body and straight at Jack. He spoke bluntly, “It seems like you found your mole.”

Jack glared at him and practically shouted, “You little bastard.”

The forensic team processing the scene, stopped working and stared at the two men.

Will replied, his voice low and cold, “It’s clearly Judas.”

Jack glared at the profiler and with barely contained rage he barked out, “Judas hanged himself, he wasn’t disemboweled.”

Hannibal said calmly, “When Canavesio painted his Passion Cycle of the Christ in the Chapel of Notre-Dame des Fontaines, near La Brigue, he depicted Judas’ hanging body being eviscerated by a small demon there to collect his soul.”

Will approached the body and looked intently at the gaping torso. In a detached tone, he commented, “No organs are missing. Can I touch the body?”

Jack nodded. Will opened Brian’s mouth wide and peered inside. He turned around to face Jack, before he told him, “The tongue’s gone.”

Jack took his hat off and crushed it in his hands in frustration, “Another gift for you from The Ripper.”

“Apparently so. Interesting that he could figure out who was betraying me to Freddie Lounds, when you couldn’t,” he continued, his voice and eyes equally frigid, “but you always liked Zeller. One of your three musketeers.”

Will looked across the police barrier and saw Freddie Lounds taking photos of him. He grinned viciously as he approached her. Hannibal followed him.

“Hello, Freddie. Looks like you’ll have to find a new rat.”

Freddie sniped back, “You’re not even going to pretend that you care that a team member of yours was murdered?”

Will laughed cynically and responded, “I was never part of the team. As you pointed out, repeatedly, I’m not real FBI. You hardly look broken up about it either.”

He turned to walk away then stopped. He walked back to her until the only thing separating them was the police tape. He leaned in and spoke softly in her ear, “You know, you have more to worry about than replacing your source in the FBI. If The Ripper did this to Zeller for feeding you information, what do you think he might do to you for publishing it?”

He straightened up and gave her a wide toothed smile. Freddie swallowed hard. She pulled herself up tall and replied, “That sounds like a threat, Graham.”

Will smiled again and said in a low, conspiratorial tone, “I would be careful about what you publish about me going forward. Make sure that you can back it up with evidence. I may not have the resources to fund a prolonged libel suit against TattleCrime, but my father certainly does.”

With that, he turned around to face Hannibal. He gave his boy a small smile, pride shining in his eyes. Will grinned in return and said, “Take me home.”

Alana took off her reading glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. Molly looked over at her from the couch. She put down her book and got up and crossed over to Alana who was sitting at the small dining table in her breakfast nook. She squeezed her shoulder, and said, “Can I get you some more coffee?”

Alana looked up and nodded.

“I’m going to make us sandwiches too. We both need to eat.”

Molly went to the kitchen and grabbed the coffee carafe. She refilled Alana’s cup before starting another pot. She opened Alana’s fridge and rummaged for ingredients and piled everything on the kitchen island. As she worked, she asked, “Why does Jack want you on this?”

She saw Alana stiffen in her chair. Before the other woman could say anything, she went on, “Remember, I need you to be honest.”

Alana sighed and put down her pen. She stood up, stretched, and then leaned against the door frame dividing the kitchen and nook.

“Will walked off the scene.”

Molly looked up at hear and replied in a sardonic tone, “When has that ever stopped Jack from hounding Will until he got what he wanted. What is it really?”

“He doesn’t trust Will.”

Molly looked up and said, “Oh.”

She plated their sandwiches and cocked her head at the carafe on the coffee maker. Alana grabbed it and followed her to the table. They sat down and ate in silence for a while.

“Why doesn’t he trust Will?”

“Will acted oddly at the crime scene. He didn’t seem upset about Brian’s death. He seemed more concerned about Freddie Lounds.”

“What else?”

“Jack is concerned that Will didn’t want a surveillance unit on Hannibal’s house despite The Ripper’s obvious obsession with him. Will’s clearly not afraid of him. He didn’t say it, but I think on some level Jack suspects that Will is encouraging The Ripper’s attention somehow. Even manipulating him which is ridiculous. Will hasn’t talked publicly about him or even discussed him in his classes. The only way that he could influence him is if he knew who The Ripper was, and they had some personal connection.”

Alana sighed and continued, “Jack’s never rational about Will. He expects him to perform, no matter the circumstances. He’s grasping for a reason to explain Will’s behavior.”

“Do you think that is all there is to it?”

Alana frowned, so Molly elaborated, “Jack is the head of the BAU, so he must have some ability to read people. He ran roughshod over Will because he knew that he could get what he wanted from him that way. If this was just a matter of Will walking off a case, he wouldn’t say that he didn’t trust him. Jack’s right to be disturbed about Will’s lack of reaction to Brian’s death. We’ve both seen how cold he’s become. And it is strange that The Ripper somehow knew that Brian was the one feeding information to Freddie Lounds. How could he? Unless he was someone on the team or someone on the team told him? And Will’s the only one who couldn’t be blinded to Brian’s betrayal by friendship. Will couldn’t stand him.”

“But I don’t think that The Ripper killed Brian. I think an admirer of his did it. For one thing, The Ripper always kills in sounders of three and he’s already completed a sounder with the death of the man in the church.”

“What’s a sounder?”

“It’s a group of wild swine.”

“The FBI refers to murder victims as pigs?”

“God, no. Will came up with it. He said that’s how The Ripper sees them. Will was convinced that he was eating the organs he took. It’s not cannibalism if they aren’t his equals.”

“Could his infatuation with Will be changing his motives for the murder and that’s why he’s killed more than three?”

“The murder itself was too different from The Ripper’s other kills to be his. The religious iconography of the Crucifixion and of Judas hanging himself do sync but what was done to the body and how it was displayed was much cruder. Brian’s body was disemboweled with a hunting knife and his organs were left hanging out. His tongue was severed with the same knife.”

“God.”

“Do you want me to go on?”

“Yes.”

“This killing had the hallmarks of a personal killing, a rageful one. Until his last two kills, the Ripper’s displays were devoid of passion. Will believes that The Ripper sees himself as elevating the worthless into art. The Ripper never would have left the body with the organs hanging out. He would have harvested them and replaced them with something symbolic. Also, the technique was crude. The Ripper’s removal of organs is always precise, elegant according to Will. Will's convinced that he is or has been a surgeon. He wouldn’t have hacked a tongue out with a knife.”

Molly closed her eyes and silently mulled over what Alana told her. She opened her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out before speaking, anger simmering under her words, “So, The Ripper is or was a surgeon; in other words, he’s a doctor. He’s probably deeply interested in the arts or is an artist himself. He sees himself as superior to the rest of humanity. He’s not just obsessed by Will; he would literally kill for him. And he either has a connection to Jack and his team or more likely a direct one with Will.”

Tears had started to form in Alana’s eyes as Molly spoke. Her eyes were half-closed when she responded, seemingly incongruously, “The Ripper eats offal.”

Alana stood up and went over to a bookshelf where she kept her work-related materials, she grabbed about ten hardback appointment books. She dumped them on the kitchen table and sat back down. She pointed at the stack of files that she had been looking through earlier and said, “Go through those and find the first set of murders that Will identified as The Ripper’s.”

Molly found what she was looking for and nodded. Alana asked for the date of the third killing in the sounder. She found the matching week in the same year’s appointment book. She marked it with a post it. They went through every case that Will credited to The Ripper. When they were done, Alana looked at Molly and said, “After the end of each sounder, Hannibal threw a dinner party. He used organ meat extensively in the dishes that he served.”

Molly looked at her wide-eyed and asked, “You were at them?”

Alana nodded and said in a trembling voice, “All of them.”

She bolted up from her chair and ran to the bathroom.

Molly could hear her retching.


	15. Consummation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all in the chapter title.

Hannibal returned home to no Will. It was expected, he was probably already in Wolf Trap preparing dinner. Still, the house felt empty without him. This was the first time in two months that when he arrived home, his darling boy was not there. He knew logically that he would see Will in a few hours, but logic did not diminish his ache for him nor the irrational fear that somehow, he would never see him again. Hannibal stopped in his kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine. He brought it upstairs to his dressing room. He had never done so before; a spill could be disastrous. But he needed it. There was a post-it on the closet door that read, “Wear your tux.” Hannibal smiled and looked at his watch, he had left himself an hour and a half to get ready. A little close but he would still be on time.

After completing his usual post-work grooming routine and the lengthy process of attiring himself, it was time for the final stroke to his masterpiece of formal wear. He opened the drawer that housed his considerable cufflink collection. Unexpectedly, two pairs of green eyes peered up at him.

He picked up the cufflinks to exam them more closely. Cartier. Panther faces wrought from white gold, emeralds making their eyes flash and a piece of onyx for the tip of the nose. Beautiful and deadly. A gift from his Will. His fingers trembled as he inserted and fixed them into his cuffs. They were perfect, their brilliant eyes the only color in his attire. He ran a thumb loving over the one on his left. A pair of apex predators, perfectly matched.

He felt as giddy as a schoolgirl.

The drive to Wolf Trap seemed to take twice as long as it had the last time that he had he made the trek. He checked the clock on the dashboard of his Bentley for the fourth time. He would arrive promptly at eight even with the detour to his favorite wine shop to pick up a host gift. He nervously tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. What if the wine did not pair well with the dishes that Will was serving? Will had only given him one clue as to what he was preparing. The dishes originated from Louisiana which probably meant spicy. So, he chose a white Bordeaux. Creole food came from French food, so it should be appropriate for whatever Will prepared. Or maybe Will already had wine picked out? He shook his head. No, Will would not have done that. He would have expected Hannibal to decide.

Of course, this was supposed to be Will hosting him. Maybe he would find Hannibal bringing wine patronizing. But it was a usual gift. Maybe he should have brought flowers. That would have been romantic. Why didn’t he just bring flowers?

He almost missed the turn off to the country lane that would take him to Will’s house. Will’s and Molly’s house, he corrected himself with a huff. Why there of all places? Of course, there wasn’t anywhere else to do it besides his house and Will wanted to surprise him. A sharp pang of fear twisted into his stomach. Maybe, he wanted to meet him at the house because he was going to tell him that he had reconsidered and wanted to return to his family. Or maybe, he was going to spring a trap, the FBI could be in the backyard waiting for Will’s signal. He had to know after the death in the church that Hannibal was The Ripper. Will had questioned if The Ripper was capable of love and then had asked him to show him how he loved him. What if Will had not truly felt it? What if he thought Hannibal had been manipulating him this whole time to protect himself?

Suddenly, Hannibal was pulling up in front of the house. He parked and took a deep breath. He was being ridiculous. This was exactly what it looked like, Will was making a romantic gesture. He picked up the bag with the wine in it and exited the car. He took the steps up to the door two at a time. Before he knocked, he straightened his bowtie and smoothed down his hair.

When Will opened the door, Hannibal inhaled sharply. Will looked stunning, dressed in a diner suit so darkly blue it looked almost looked black. He had shaved off his beard completely, making him look much younger while showing off the wicked looking scar that ran down his face. Thankfully, he had not cut or styled his hair. Hannibal’s own cufflinks glittered on Will’s wrist. The gold ones with his family crest. Their family crest.

He smiled and said, “I see that you found the gift I was going to surprise you with when I asked you to accompany me to the opera.”

“When I tried it on, it fit perfectly,” he continued on in a distinctly wry voice, “I wonder how you got my measurements. You must have taken them when I was in an incredibly deep sleep.”

Hannibal didn’t respond.

Will swept an arm and said, “Please come in.”

He looked at Hannibal’s cuffs as he helped him out of his coat. He said in a pleased tone, “You found my gift for you.”

Hannibal smiled and said, “Their beautiful.”

“I am glad to hear it. They suit you.”

“As yours do you.”

“I hope that you don’t mind me borrowing them.”

Hannibal smiled as he walked over to Will. He kissed him on the forehead and then said, “It’s only proper, they belonged to my father and to his father before him.”

Hannibal stepped back and proffered the wine bottle.

“Thank you. I was worried about buying something good enough for your palate.”

He took Hannibal’s free hand and led him past the unlit kitchen and den to the dining room. The smell of jasmine filled the air. He looked at the table, set with what was presumably Will and Molly’s wedding linens and silverware. There was a simple crystal vase teeming with jasmine, the blossoms flowing gracefully down its sides. White pillar candles encircled it.

He nodded towards the flowers and asked, “Love, beauty, sensuality or purity?”

Will embraced him and replied, “All of them. My love for you is beautiful, sensual and pure.”

Will kissed him chastely on the mouth.

“Please open the wine while I bring out the first course.”

As Will made his way back to the kitchen, he found the cork pull sitting on a white lace runner draped over the antique sideboard that ran along the back wall of the room. He was grateful to have a task to focus his attention on and the flickering candlelight to hide the unshed tears that shined in his eyes. He poured the wine and then took his seat to the left of the head of the table.

Will came out with two elegantly plated dishes. As he sat Hannibal’s appetizer in front of him, he announced, “Tongue in Creole Marinade”.

Hannibal froze. Will forced himself not to smile when he saw the astonished look on Hannibal’s face. Well, it was barely a twitch, but on his father’s usually serene face, it was as if he were gaping.

Once Will was seated he spoke again, “Usually this would be an entrée and made with beef. I sourced the meat myself and it was only enough for a starter.”

As Hannibal had done countless times, Will looked at him expectantly. Hannibal took a bite and his eyes closed in appreciation. He enjoyed the smoldering look in Hannibal’s eyes when he opened them. He grinned devilishly at Will and asked, “Mr. Zeller?”

Will replied, “Yes,” and then staring deeply into Hannibal’s eyes, he took a bite of his own creation. After he swallowed, he gave Hannibal a feral grin. It took all his will power not to throw Will across the table and ravage him. Instead he raised his glass before saying, “My compliments to the chef.”

They leisurely finished their first course in between sips of the Bordeaux which matched the dish perfectly. Their gaze never broke. Hannibal refilled their glasses and they drank another half a glass of wine before Will stood up to clear the plates. As Will leaned over to pick up his used plate, Hannibal asked him, “What is our next course?”

Will smiled as he stood up and said, “Gumbo. I hope that you don’t mind, but I used some of the sausage from your basement freezer.”

Hannibal’s hand shot out and grabbed Will’s wrist. Will dropped the plate that he was holding back onto the table and gave him a look full of curiosity.

“Then it can hold.”

“The longer it simmers, the better it is.”

Hannibal let go of his wrist and stood up to his full height, looming slightly over Will. He pushed his chair over on to the floor to give himself space to maneuver. He swept Will up into his arms, one arm under his shoulders and the other under his knees. He carried Will bridal style through the downstairs rooms and up the stairs. When he reached the landing, he asked, “Which room?”

“The one on the far left.”

When he got to the partially open door, he kicked it open the rest of the way. He strode to the bed and gently placed Will back on his feet at the end of it. He stilled for a moment, taking in the beauty of Will bathed in the moonlight coming from the window. He stepped closer to his boy. He embraced him gently and kissed him softly. He savored his taste and felt his heart beating wildly. He pulled back and put his hand on Will’s face. Will reached out to him and started to untie his bowtie. A trembling sigh escaped Hannibal’s lips. This was really happening. Will was going to make love to him. He forced his hands to start untying Will’s bowtie. They dropped the ties to the floor in tandem.

They slowly undressed each other with perfect synchronization. Each piece of clothing dropped uncaringly to the ground. When they were through, Will gently guided him to a seated position against the headboard of his marital bed. He pushed Hannibal’s legs up to a bent position and slid himself against him, his knees pushing against the mattress on either side of Hannibal. He tilted Hannibal’s head up and leaned in to kiss him. Hannibal embraced him, his hands warm and strong against his back.

Will started out gentle and teasing. Then he slid the tip of his tongue along the seam of Hannibal’s lips and he opened his mouth in obedience to Will’s unspoken command. His hips bucked when Will’s tongue thrust into his mouth. They took their time exploring each other with their hands and mouths. Will pulled away and looked at Hannibal with half closed eyes. He said softly, “I am afraid that I’m going to come within seconds of being inside of you.”

Hannibal rested his head on Will’s shoulder, momentarily mute as the image of Will’s face leaning over him as he took him. He inhaled deeply and straightened up. He caressed Will’s check and said, “I have an idea.”

Will cast his eyes down to look into his eyes and asked, “What is it?”

Hannibal looked down at Will’s cock fully erect and weeping pre-ejaculate. He licked his hand repeatedly, wetting it completely. Then, he grasped Will’s cock gently and started moving his hand up and down the shaft.

Will gasped out a groan and grabbed Hannibal’s shoulders tightly. He stuttered out, “That really isn’t helping.”

Hannibal looked up at him and used his free hand to push Will’s curls off his forehead. He said, “I think we should bring each other to completion with our hands. Then you can take as long as you want with me.”

Hannibal felt Will’s whole body shudder in response. He kissed Hannibal fiercely as he continued to stroke him. He then placed a hand over Hannibal’s who immediately stopped stroking. Will moved off him, so that he could pull a bottle of lube out of the nightstand drawer. He sat back down on the mattress, facing Hannibal. He bent his legs over Hannibal’s, draping them over his thighs He held out his right hand, palm up and open. Hannibal poured lube into it. Then he placed the bottle of lube in Will’s left hand and held out his right hand as Will had done. Will filled it. They moved closer and Will loosely circled Hannibal’s waist with his legs. Will wrapped his clean hand around the back of Hannibal’s neck and then started stroking his erection. Hannibal copied Will’s actions. Their eyes locked as they stroked each other.

After a few minutes they wore both panting harshly. Hannibal felt the tension rising in his pelvis. He felt lightheaded, blood rushing through his body. He felt golden and he both wanted to stretch out the physical pleasure and to orgasm. Will’s breathing was growing more labored and his eyes closed. His fingers tightened on the back of Hannibal’s neck, hard enough to bruise. Will ejaculated with a harsh cry. He fell forward and laid his head on Hannibal’s shoulders. But his hand kept moving and Hannibal gave in to his body. He heard himself cry out as his orgasm overtook him. He pulled Will tightly to him crushing their torsos together, their release mixing and sticking to their skin.

They remained intertwined until they both were breathing evenly. Will pulled away first. He stared at Hannibal as he ran his finger through his fine hair. He leaned in and kissed him tenderly before disentangling himself completely. He grabbed one of the bed pillows. He stripped the pillowcase off it and used it clean the ejaculate off their stomachs. He dropped it heedlessly onto the floor. He said quietly, “Lay down.”

Hannibal arranged himself in a prone position and placed the pillow that still had its covering under his head. Will laid down next to him on his side, plastering his body along his. He bent his arm and propped the side of his head on his palm. Hannibal tilted his head to look at him. Will stared at him through half closed eyes. His boy reached towards him with his free hand. Hannibal shivered when he started leisurely tracing the bones in his face with his fingertips.

He murmured, “Your beautiful,” as his index finger traced the bow of his mouth. Then he slid his fingers down, exerting a little more force as they made their way down to his chest. He pressed his hand over his heart. He listened to Will’s breathing increasing slightly as he slid his hand to the left. Hannibal swallowed hard when Will pinched his nipple. He let go and slid his hand to the other pectoral and pinched the other one making Hannibal moan this time. Will moved to lean over him to kiss and nuzzle his neck while he rubbed his nipple with his thumb. Hannibal moved enough so that he could run a hand down Will’s side. When it reached his hip, he squeezed hard and felt Will nip slightly at his neck in response.

Will trailed his lips up and over his chin to his mouth and began kissing him in earnest. As they kissed, Will pushed Hannibal back flat against the bed. Then he moved on top of him, never breaking their kiss. They became lost together in a haze of physical pleasure, kissing, stroking, and sliding their bodies together. As they both began to harden again, Hannibal’s fingers tightened in Will’s hair and pulled his head back. He wet his lips before speaking, “You should start preparing me.”

Will’s breath hitched and he grabbed Hannibal by the chin and gave him a long passionate kiss. When he finished kissing him, he ran his fingertips along the side of Hannibal’s face as he spoke softly, “I want to make this good for you.”

Hannibal grabbed his fingers and sucked lightly on their tips, one by one. He smiled and said, “You will.”

“You’ll have to tell me how.”

“I know that you haven’t been with a man before, but have you done this with a woman?”

Will shook his head. Hannibal smiled widely and half asked, half stated with evident satisfaction, “So, I’m the only one you’ve been with this way.”

“Yes,” replied Will, “and you’ll be the only one that I’ve ever made love with who truly sees me.”

Hannibal stroked Will’s face as he said reverently, “It is the same for me, Will. No one has seen me as I truly am and loved me.”

Will gave him a brief kiss before turning and grabbing the lube back off the nightstand.

Will asked nervously, “What position is going to be most comfortable for you?”

Hannibal rolled onto his stomach. He grabbed the pillow and placed it under his groin. He laid his head sideways on his crossed arms. When he spread his legs, Will cursed, “Fuck.”

He knelt between Hannibal’s legs. He ran his hands down his back and Hannibal arched into his touch. He asked quietly, “When you’re ready for me to make love to you, can we change positions? I want us to be face to face for that.”

“I want that too.”

Will’s hands shook as he lubed up his finger. He folded his legs under himself, glutes resting on his heels. His breath was becoming labored and he was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the thought of touching Hannibal _there_. Hannibal’s hands moved to his own buttocks and he spread them for Will.

Will made a huffing sound that aroused Hannibal considerably. He felt the heat of Will’s body as he leaned over him. Will placed one hand gently on his lower back and then he pushed the index finger of his other hand into Hannibal. Hannibal forced himself to relax his muscles which were trying to tighten in response to the intrusion. Will tentatively pushed in and out a few times. Then he pushed back in firmly and started to crook his finger up, exploring.

When Hannibal cried his name out loudly, Will realized that he had found what he was looking for. He started moving his finger in and out again, being sure to brush against Hannibal’s prostate each time. He felt Hannibal relaxing more and he felt himself stiffening more in reaction to the sounds that he was making. He was patient and waited until Hannibal demanded, “Another one.”

Will pulled out carefully and lubed up his index and middle finger. He pushed his fingers in gently, making sure to brush against Hannibal’s prostate again. He pushed back against Will’s fingers in response as he let out a low-pitched needy sound. Will kept moving his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm.

“Another one.”

Will pulled out again with a loud exhale. His hands were trembling as he applied lube to his ring finger. As he plunged all three fingers into Hannibal’s tight wet heat, he groaned. He wanted his cock in there now. He forced his fingers to keep up the same fixed rhythm as before, making sure to stimulate Hannibal’s prostrate every time he moved his fingers in or out.

“Almost ready, darling boy.”

Will gritted his teeth as kept going. He was fully hard.

Hannibal suddenly gasped out, “Now.”

Will flipped him onto his back and spread his legs. He braced himself with one hand on the mattress by Hannibal’s head. He used his other hand to guide his cock into him. He let out a loud keening noise as he pushed into the velvet, clenching heat. When he was in all the way, he pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s forehead. He pulled out halfway and pushed back in. Then again. Then again. He established a gentle tempo. His attention was fully focused on the beautiful pressure of Hannibal’s clenching walls against his cock.

When Hannibal wrapped his legs around his waist, Will opened his eyes and stared into his face. Tears were starting to slip out of his maroon eyes. He stopped moving and asked concernedly, “Am I hurting you?”

Hannibal caressed his face and said, “No. I’m just overwhelmed that we are finally one.”

Will kissed him lovingly and started moving again. Then he said, “Help me angle you.”

They experimented for a few minutes, until Hannibal cried out, “There.”

Hannibal pulled Will’s chest against his and buried his face in his neck as he started pulling out further and thrusting in harder. The constant stimulation of his prostrate was beginning to overwhelm him. Warmth was spreading throughout his whole body and his heart was pounding. He begged Will to go faster. Will gave him a puzzled look. Hannibal grabbed his ass roughly and started thrusting his hips up fast and hard to show what he wanted.

Will nodded as he pushed Hannibal’s hips down forcefully against the mattress. He said roughly, “I have you, baby, don’t worry.”

Will picked up the pace and increased the force of his thrusts. Hannibal whimpered, “Perfect. Perfect. Just like that.”

It was just what he needed. He felt his whole body tightening, starting in his pelvis and then radiating up his back, through his arms and down his legs. Then his entire body started spasming. He screamed with pleasure as he orgasmed without ejaculating. Will groaned loudly as his sphincter muscles tightened and squeezed his cock. But his boy kept going and he felt the pressure building back up as his thrusts kept stroking his prostrate.

He felt Will’s rhythm become erratic. His mouth was open, and his breathing was labored. Hannibal released his head back to the bed. He grabbed Will’s face with both hands and Will opened his eyes in response. His eyes were wild, wilder than when he killed Hobbs. He spoke, his words broken up by pants, “So good. To be inside you. You’re mine now.”

Hannibal felt his body building up to another orgasm. He wanted to…No, he needed to ejaculate this time. He cried out, “Please, touch me.”

Will frowned slightly, evidently not understanding him. Hannibal pulled Will’s hand from his hip and placed it on his cock. He begged, “Darling, please. Please.”

Will stroked his shaft while also managing to thrust even harder and faster into him. The pressure in his body was almost unbearable. He could hear himself emitting a continual, high pitched whining. He didn’t care. He only cared about Will not stopping his movements. Then the wave of his second orgasm started to hit. As it peaked, he ejaculated and started crying in earnest. Will let go of his cock. His other hand released his hip. Will planted his hands on either side of Hannibal’s head. His thrusting became erratic again until he finally jerked hard inside of him. Hannibal relished the feeling of his warm seed splashing against his walls.

Will collapsed on top of him. Hannibal stroked his hair and his back as his beautiful boy started sobbing. He tightened his muscles as hard as he still could to keep Will inside of him as he softened. He allowed his muscles to relax when once Will was completely flaccid. Will rolled over to his side and Hannibal did the same. They remained silent, gazing at each other, until their breathing slowed down enough to speak easily. His boy swept the dank bangs from his forehead and then ran his fingers down his face tenderly, stopping on his lips. He caressed them with his fingertips and teased, “You lost your English.”

Hannibal’s forehead wrinkled and he asked, “What on earth are you talking about?”

Will’s hand cupped his chin and kissed him softly on the lips. He smiled as he pulled his lips away. His tone was playful but kind as he replied, “When I was inside you and you were begging me, you weren’t speaking in English. I think it was Lithuanian,” he grinned smugly and continued, “I’ll guess I’ll have to learn it.”

Hannibal kissed him tenderly before he said, “You should. It’s part of your heritage.”

Will pulled back and Hannibal felt fear pool in his stomach. With his eyes half-closed, he asked, “Do you regret this, Will?”

Will pulled him tightly against him and reassured him, “No, God, no, Hannibal.”

“What is it then?”

Will sighed and asked him tentatively, “Are we too much to each other?”

Hannibal looked at him questioningly. Will continued, “We’re father and son, soulmates and lovers. Does it frighten you?”

“Yes,” Hannibal responded, “You could do anything to me, and I would not raise a finger. Because hurting you is hurting me. There are no boundaries between us anymore.”

Will closed his eyes and sighed. He was quiet for a moment. He opened his eyes and held Hannibal’s’ gaze as he said, “There’s one more thing that I want us to be.”

“Anything.”

“Partners in crime.”


	16. Crucible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Molly sat in matching chairs in front of Jack’s office desk. He looked at them intently from across the other side of it, his back rigid against his chair. After they finished speaking, he rose and moved to stare out his window. He stood lost in thought. Eventually, he turned around to face the two women. “Hannibal fits Will’s profile. How could I not have seen it?”

Alana was awoken by a relentless pounding on the door of her apartment. She grabbed her blue chenille robe off the end of the bed and stumbled barefoot to the front door. She shouted, “I’m coming. For fuck’s sake, stop knocking. You’re going to wake up the neighbors.”

Before she opened the door, she realized that it must be Jack. Otherwise, FBI agents would be tackling whoever was on the verge of breaking down her door. For a moment, she wished that he had gone to her apartment without identifying himself first. At least she would have gotten something out of being woken up at 5:00 a.m. She opened the door and asked grumpily, “What do want, Jack?”

Jack pushed in without waiting to be invited.

“Jack, do you know what—”

He interrupted, “I need you at a crime scene, Alana.”

Alana sighed and said, “You could have called.”

“I did. You didn’t pick up.”

“I turn my phone to do not disturb at night.”

“Then why are you asking me if I called?”

“Jesus, Jack.”

Both Alana’s and Jack’s heads snapped over to Molly who has spoken the words with a combination of anger and disbelief.

Jack nodded in greeting as he said, “Molly.”

With a roll of her eyes, Molly asked, “Who wants coffee?”

Jack strode over to the kitchen nook and sat himself down at the table as if he lived there.

Alana couldn’t catch what Molly grumbled as she walked past her on her way to the kitchen. Alana sat down across from Jack and asked, “Is it another Ripper murder?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you’re not asking Will in on it? Or was he not answering his phone either?”

Jack paused and looked over at Molly meaningfully.

“She’s living here. Whatever it is, I’ll wind up telling her anyway.”

“Will has a personal connection to the case.”

He had both women’s full attention.

“The victim is Freddie Lounds.”

Molly carried three mugs by their handles in one hand and the coffee carafe in the other from the kitchen to the table. Jack gave her an impressed look and she explained briefly, “I use to wait tables in Maine.“

She didn’t add that it was how she met Will. He came in every morning to the diner that she worked at while he was in Maine on a fishing trip. He had picked Rapid River for its renowned trout fly fishing. They clicked immediately and started an interstate romance when he returned home. She was quite willing to leave Upton for a new life in Wolf Trap. Despite the misgivings she had the first time she stayed at his house. He hadn’t even bothered to move the bed off the floor of his living room. He explained that he normally slept there surrounded by his seven dogs. They stayed in a bedroom upstairs, but that was still a major red flag. Looking at it now, she realized that the physical distance at the beginning allowed her to get too emotionally attached without knowing him as well as she should. Then again, with his empathy, he would have molded himself for her. He, in fact, had. He was manipulative, he always had been. And now he had manipulated Hannibal into killing Freddie Lounds.

Jack took a sip of his coffee and hummed appreciatively. He looked at Alana and asked, “How soon can you be ready?”

“Half an hour.”

Jack settled back in his chair, evidently planning on waiting for her there. His comfort was immediately disrupted when Molly stated, “I’m coming too.”

Jack protested, “ A civilian can’t come to a crime scene.”

“If you don’t want me at the scene fine. But I have a right to be on the other side of the police line.”

Alana spoke before Jack could, “It would be safer to keep her with us when we get there. You know as well as I do that killers often visit the scene of their murders as onlookers. And The Ripper would definitely recognize her.”

Jack frowned and said in a perturbed tone, “Fine.”

Molly nodded and went back to her room to ready herself.

They drove in silence to the Baltimore Sun building. A section of the lawn that sprawled in front of it had been cordoned off. The crowd was even bigger than the one at Zeller’s tableau. Molly gasped and grabbed Alana’s hand when she saw it. They held hands until they pushed past the cordon where Jack flashed his badge and barked at the police officer guarding it.

Detective Pollhaus was there and gave Jack a curt nod and said, “She was at the last crime scene. Ran an article yesterday morning implicating that your guy Graham persuaded The Ripper to kill Brian Zeller. Odd that she didn’t run it the same day we discovered the body. She’s usually faster.”

Jack replied, “She was scared. She came to my office claiming that Will Graham threatened her.”

Molly and Alana looked at each other but didn’t speak.

Pollhaus asked, “Did you believe her?”

“I believed that Will was yanking her chain. She’s been savaging him on her website non-stop since he started working for me.”

“Zeller was her source and they’re both dead now.”

Jack sighed, “I asked her if she wanted protection, not because of Will, but because of her connection to Zeller. She refused it. When she ran her coverage of the killing that afternoon, she left Will out of it. She must have changed her mind.”

“What do you think changed it?”

“Probably numbers. The first article was tame. Her audience wouldn’t have liked it.”

“So, she decides to publish that Graham was using The Ripper as his assassin and using his father’s wealth to threaten her into silence.”

While they had been talking, Alana had started inspecting Hannibal’s handiwork. It seemed familiar somehow. Freddie had been draped in royal blue cloth, knotted above her pelvis, the cloth elegantly flowing to her feet which were clad in delicate gladiator sandals. Her red hair had been straightened and held back from her face with a golden headband. Her arms had been positioned so that each hand was pulling strands of her hair up and away from her head. She was held in place with fishing lines extended from the clump of trees she was placed in front of. Red and pink roses surrounded her feet. Her eyes had been removed and her throat cut. The lab would be able to tell if the enucleation had been performed postmortem or not.

She took a closer look at both mutilations and called out, “Jack, come over here.”

Jack strode over and looked at her expectantly. She pointed to the eye sockets and said, “The eyes must have been removed by a surgeon, the cuts are precise and clean. That and the display indicate this was done by The Ripper.”

She pointed to the slashed throat and continued, “This was done with a hunting knife. We’ll need the lab to compare it to the wounds on Brian’s body, but I am sure that it will be the same weapon.”

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose as he exhaled noisily. He looked up into Alana’s eyes and said, “They’re working together now, The Ripper and his admirer.”

As Alana nodded, she looked over at Molly who had her hand over her mouth. She saw her blinking tears from her eyes as she returned Alana’s gaze. Oh God, it was Will. Will was the admirer. She had to tightly wrap her arms around her chest to keep herself from running over to Molly.

“So, why take the eyes?”

Alana snapped her attention back to Jack and said, “’And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee.” Of course, he did it for her and took both of them. But there’s something about the display...”

She turned back to the body and stared several moments before blurting out, “Cassandra.”

Jack gave her a puzzled look.

“It’s a painting. _Cassandra_ by Evelyn De Morgan. Troy is burning behind her in the painting. She had prophesied the fall of the city, but no one would heed her. Apollo had given her the gift of prognostication but when she refused to sleep with him, he cursed her—no one would ever believe her prophecies.”

“The classics again. How are you familiar with the painting?’

“Hannibal took me to an exhibit of De Morgan’s work a few years back at the Baltimore Museum of Art. He said it was a rare treat, the first time her works had been displayed together in the United States.”

Another link to Hannibal. Maybe it was time to tell Jack about all the coincidences between Hannibal and The Ripper. It was all circumstantial, but maybe Jack could figure out how to get the proof once he was pointed in the right direction. She started to turn around to walk over to Molly. But stopped suddenly and grabbed Jack’s his arm tightly as she stared at Freddie’s body.

“What is it?”

“De Morgan was commissioned to paint Helen of Tory in the same way. Jack, she was portrayed as blonde.”

Jack said firmly, “We need to place Molly and Wally in a safe house. You need to make sure that she agrees.”

As Jack strode over to Molly, Alana looked out at the crowd surrounding the police tape. Will stood there where Freddie had done countless times before. He looked smug. He seemed to sense her stare and suddenly she felt his blue green eyes boring into her. She couldn’t meet them. She turned away and walked over to where Jack and Molly stood talking.

She missed the smile on Will’s face turning to a determined straight line and his eyes grow cold as steel.

Hannibal’s arms encircled him from behind as soon as he hung up his coat. He buried his nose into Will’s hair and took a large inhale. He said, softly, “You didn’t get too near our friends in the FBI.”

Will turned around and kissed him on the forehead and said, “Let’s have a drink. We need to talk.”

Once they settled themselves on the couch in front of the fire, glasses of red wine in their hands, Will spoke, “She knows.”

Hannibal ran his hand over Will’s thigh and commented, “You need to be more specific, beloved.”

“Alana. She saw me at the crime scene on the other side of the cordon. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. She looked terrified.”

Hannibal let out a thoughtful “hmmh” and took another sip of wine. He raised his hand from Will’s thigh and placed it on his nape. As he massaged him, he asked, “Do you think that she’ll be able to persuade Jack?”

Will quietly considered his words before speaking, “Maybe. He’s not a fool and if Alana figured out that I was partly responsible this time, it is because she already put together that you’re The Ripper.”

“Suspicions aren’t proof.”

“No, but Jack is a good hunting dog. You give him the scent and he’ll corner the prey.”

“Cornered animals are the most dangerous.”

“Yes. But killing him won’t solve our problem. He’ll leave a trail of paperwork for the FBI to follow.”

Hannibal slid his hand up into Will’s hair, grabbing it firmly, but when he leaned over and kissed Will it was tenderly. He pulled away and leaned contentedly against the back of the couch. He sighed and dropped his hand down to interlace his fingers with Will’s.

“What are you so happy about?”

“You said _our_ problem.”

Will blinked in astonishment then gave a little laugh before speaking, “I need you to focus, baby.”

“How can I focus when you call me that?”

“This is serious.”

“We have two choices, we can stay here in Baltimore and run circles around Jack. But that would limit if not put a stop to our artistic collaboration.”

“Or?”

“We could leave Baltimore, at least for a while. I’d love to show you Florence.”

“Why Florence?”

“I became a man there.”

Will blinked and then said in an incredulous tone, “Jesus, please tell me you weren’t Il Mostro.”

Hannibal gave him a small smile.

“In that case, if we leave, it can’t be for Florence. Jack’s not an idiot.”

Hannibal picked up their joined hands and kissed Will’s knuckles. “I want to take you home.”

“Home?”

“To the Lecter estate, our ancestral home.”

Will felt tears starting to prickle his eyes. He angled himself to press his forehead to Hannibal’s and whispered, “Yes.”

Hannibal placed his hands on either side of his face and kissed him. They stayed that way for a few minutes, their kissing soft and lazy. Will broke away and said, “If we’re leaving, we have a lot of loose ends to take care of.”

Alana and Molly sat in matching chairs in front of Jack’s office desk. He looked at them intently from across the other side of it, his back rigid against his chair. After they finished speaking, he rose and moved to stare out his window. He stood lost in thought. Eventually, he turned around to face the two women. “Hannibal fits Will’s profile. How could I not have seen it?”

Alana spoke clearly in a firm voice, “I’m a profiler and I didn’t see it. Hannibal pursued our friendship after I left John Hopkins. He foresaw how useful it would be for him to have an FBI profiler who trusted him.”

Jack responded, “The best profiler.”

Alana replied, “Except Will.”

Molly said thoughtfully, “I wonder why he didn’t sleep with you.”

Alana and Jack both looked at her in astonishment.

Molly looked surprised by their reaction, she elaborated, “Wouldn’t that have blinded you even more?”

Alana blushed and replied, “He always did little things to signal he was attracted to me without making an overt move, enough to keep me thinking that maybe it could happen,“ she shuddered and continued, “If things had gone differently, if we had started to suspect him, Hannibal probably would have started a romantic relationship with me. He would have used me to protect himself.”

Molly said quietly, “But Will joined the team.”

Jack walked over to Molly and squeezed her shoulder and said sincerely, “I am sorry, Molly.”

Molly squeezed Jack’s hand in response and replied, “I don’t blame you anymore. He put you into the role of the coercing boss. He wanted everyone to think that he was being forced to keep doing it to save lives, but really, he was fascinated by the work. After all, he simply could have told you no in the first place. Maybe he was lying to himself too. This though, this “admirer” is who he really is.”

Alana brought them back to the problem at hand, “So what do we do now?”

Jack let go of Molly’s shoulder and settled himself on the edge of his desk. He spoke gravely, “We’re going to have to be discrete. Until we find something more solid, we can’t pursue a full out investigation into Hannibal or Will.”

Molly spoke up, “Since, it’s my home, I could allow you to search his office, right? I mean that would be a normal thing to do, since The Ripper’s killings can be linked to an interest in Will?”

“What do you think we’ll find?”

“At the least, Will’s notes on The Ripper. He would spend hours in his office going over the case files.”

Alana added, “They probably have information that he never submitted in his reports to you.”

Jack nodded and said, “Let’s do it.”

Molly stated, “I want to come with you.”

“Agreed. It would be better for us for you to be there,” replied Jack, “Anything we find is admissible in court if we have spousal consent to search a jointly owned home. But as soon as we’re done, I want you and Wally in a safe house.”

The three of them rode in silence out to Will’s and Molly’s house in Wolf Trap. As Molly walked up the stairs, she realized that once this was all settled, she would sell the place and pull up stakes. She didn’t even know what she meant by settled. Will and Hannibal on death row? What if Jack couldn’t find enough to even launch a full-fledged investigation? How long would this nightmare last?

Jack and Alana waited at the top of the stairs for her. She opened the door and froze. She knew instinctively that someone had been in the house since she left. The kennel had sent someone over to collect the dogs, but they only had the key for the gate.

Jack asked, “What is it Molly?”

“Someone’s been here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“If someone’s broken in, we can treat it as a crime scene. I can justify bringing in a forensics team.”

As they walked through the first-floor rooms, they saw a few signs that someone had been in the house. The kitchen was spotless, cleaner than she had left it. Molly’s and Will’s wedding linens were covering the dining room table. There were no signs of forced entry, all the windows were closed and intact. So, it probably was Will since he still had his keys. 

When they reached the door to Will’s office, Molly feared that it may have been locked. However, the door opened when she turned the knob. As soon as they were through the door, Jack opened up the drawers of Will’s desk. After a quick search, he slammed his hand on the desk and said through gritted teeth, “Nothing in here but a bottle of whiskey.”

Alana said, “He must have come back at some point and taken all his files. That’s why there’s no sign of forced entry.”

Molly said, “You two stay here. I’ll check the back door in the kitchen. Someone might have gotten in that way and then came into Will’s office to steal the files.”

As she left the room, Alana started to follow her, a confused look on her face. Jack grabbed her arm and said, “Stay. She’ll come and get us when she’s ready.”

They sat on the loveseat waiting for Molly. After about ten minutes, there was a shout from the kitchen, “Jack, Alana, it looks like someone forced the backdoor open.”

Jack grinned and picked up his cell phone. He called in the forensics team. They arrived in an hour. Jimmy Price and Beverly Katz looked grim faced and determined. Molly showed them all the things that seemed out of place on the first floor. The pair directed the more junior members to process those rooms. Beverly asked Molly, “What about upstairs?”

“We haven’t gone up there yet.”

Alana and Jack accompanied Molly, Jimmy, and Beverly to the second floor. Molly opened Wally’s room and sighed gratefully, “It’s just the same as he left it.”

The guest bedroom was similarly untouched. Molly opened her and Will’s bedroom and gasped. The bed had clearly been slept in, the sheets and quilts rumpled. She said softly, “I made the bed before I left with Alana.”

Jimmy said in a confused tone, “The Ripper broke into the house. Stole some files and then decided to sleep in Will’s bed?”

Beverly chimed in, “Well, he is obsessed with him,” as she went over to get a closer look at the bed. If they were lucky, he’d left some DNA behind, hair or particles of skin. She bent down to examine the bedding.

She gritted her teeth to keep herself from blurting out what she found in front of Graham’s wife. She looked up at Jack and said, “I think you should take Mrs. Graham downstairs.”

Jack started to say something then closed his mouth. After, he, Molly and Alana left, Beverly closed the door.

Jimmy asked, “What’s all the cloak and dagger for?”

Beverly jerked her head towards the bed. Jimmy walked over to where she was standing and looked down at the sheets and said, “Oh.”

He looked up at Beverly and said, “That is way too much to be from just one guy.”

“It looks like Graham is closer to The Ripper than we realized.”


	17. Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal leaned over and grazed his lips with his. He nosed into his curls taking in Will’s smell. He did not like the anxiety that he scented. He wanted him anticipating, not fearing. He kissed him on the side of the neck and then whispered, “You’re in control, darling. You can ask me to stop and I will do so immediately.”

Beverly and Jimmy entered Jack’s office wordlessly. Jimmy took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Jack’s desk. Beverly threw a file on the desk and seated herself in the chair next to Jimmy’s. Jack looked at the file and the up at his team members expectantly.

Beverly cleared her throat and said, “Jimmy and I collected DNA samples from the master bedroom at Will’s house."

“What kind of DNA?”

“Sperm from two different males,” Beverly continued, “One matched Will as we expected. We verified against the sample from the Hobbs’ incident. The other sample didn’t match anything in the NDIS which wasn’t a surprise since we were sure it was The Ripper’s and he’s never left any physical evidence behind.”

There was a sound of a throat clearing from the corner of Jack’s office. Beverly and Jimmy turned around and saw Alana Bloom sitting on Jack’s couch. She looked at them and said, “Run it against Hannibal’s DNA from the Hobbs’ scene.”

Jack, Beverly, and Jimmy looked at her thunderstruck.

At the same time, Beverly exclaimed, “He’s Will’s father!”, Jimmy asked, “You think Hannibal is The Chesapeake Ripper?’” and Jack bellowed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Alana tried to keep her voice calm as she answered Jack’s question, “Molly and I suspected that Hannibal and Will were in a sexual relationship. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to see it as prejudicing my profiling of Hannibal as The Ripper and Will as his admirer.”

Beverly interrupted, “You think that Will is the one responsible for Brian’s death and that they worked together to kill Freddie Lounds?”

Jimmy said softly, “It makes sense.”

Beverly gave him an incredulous look.

“They’re weird together. Lecter was constantly touching him at the crucifixion crime scene, not to mention all the staring. And that was after he found out Will was his son. And I thought, well, he’s European, maybe they’re looser with their physical affection there. But he really is completely enamored of Will and so is The Ripper. If Will feels the same about him, then he would have to be The Ripper’s admirer.”

Beverly spoke with frustration, “If it matches, all we have is confirmation that they’re engaging in an incestuous relationship. We didn’t find any DNA at Freddie’s site either.”

Jack sighed, “You’re right, Bev. Run it anyway, the information may be useful later. Right now, we don’t have enough evidence for a search warrant for either Hannibal’s home or office.”

Beverly raised her voice as she spoke, “Will threatened Freddie.”

Jack responded, “She told me that and she published it. There’s no independent witness to what happened. And we searched Will’s house from top to bottom and nothing we found links him to Brian’s or Freddie’s murderer.”

Beverly stood up from her chair and practically stomped out of the office. Jimmy followed in her wake.

When they arrived back at the lab, Beverly locked the door behind them. Jimmy sat down on a stool and asked, “Well?”

“I have an idea and you’re not going to like it.”

“What is it?”

“It’s trash night.”

“And?”

“The 4th Amendment does not prohibit warrantless search and seizure of garbage which has been left for collection outside the curtilage of a home.”

Jimmy grabbed Beverly’s arm and said, “No, Bev. It’s too dangerous. We’re talking about two serial killers.”

“Technically, one serial killer. Will’s only killed two people.”

“That we know of. I can’t believe Freddie Lounds was right.”

“And Brian,” whispered Beverly.

Jimmy felt tears starting to form in his eyes. He said softly, “Brian was my friend, too. And I don’t want to lose another one. Okay?”

Beverly nodded reluctantly.

Hannibal smiled to himself when he heard the front door close. He finished basting the pork loin and closed the oven door. A pity that he didn’t take anything from Ms. Lounds that he could have used. Will refused to eat her. He said she was polluted. Hannibal started cutting the green beans, a fond smile on his lips. He smelled Will a second before he entered the kitchen. Hannibal looked up at him and said, “Hello, Will.”

“Hello, Dr. Lecter.”

Will moved behind him and encircled his waist with his arms. He nuzzled behind Hannibal’s ear and said sultrily, “Something smells delicious.”

“The food?”

Will kissed the spot that he had been nuzzling and said, ”Not the food.”

Hannibal made a pleased sound and then asked, “How was your day?”

“Productive. I met with your lawyer. I signed a quitclaim deed, so Molly will have the house outright as soon as possible. I had your lawyer draw up divorce papers. I am giving her everything. I think he was surprised. But I told him that I would inherit everything from you, so it didn’t matter.”

Hannibal harrumphed and said, “You’re assuming that I’ll die first.”

Will laughed and said, “Well, I could hardly tell him that you’re keeping me.”

Hannibal turned around in Will’s arms to face him. He pressed his thumb to Will’s lip and looked intensely into his eyes. He asked in a husky tone, “Does that mean that I’m your sugar daddy?”

Will rolled his hips against him as he murmured, “You dirty old man.”

Hannibal frowned, “I’m in my prime.”

Will laughed and said, “Lucky me.”

He let go of him and said, “I’ll set the table.”

Dinner was, as always, perfection. They ate and drank at an unhurried pace. Hannibal asked Will, “Is there anything else that you need to take care of?”

“I need to give notice to the FBI, but I don’t want to tip Jack off to anything, but I also don’t want to raise any red flags by not giving notice.”

“Email when we arrive in Lithuania. Tell them you had a family emergency and have to take compassionate leave.”

Will sighed, “I’m not sure what to tell my dad.”

Hannibal put down his fork and dabbed his lips with his napkin. He said, “Tell him that you have been overwhelmed with your work and the divorce from Molly. I am taking you to Lithuania to see where your birth father’s family comes from.”

Will smiled and reached over to put his hand on top of Hannibal’s, “You have an answer for everything. How many times have you had to leave a country at short notice before?”

“Twice. I have had plans to leave Baltimore at a moment’s notice since I arrived here.

“In case you were found out.”

“I was confident that I wouldn’t be, but things happen.”

“I happened,” said Will with a trace of guilt in his words.

Hannibal’s face softened, “Yes. You did,” he brought Will’s hand up to his lips palm first and kissed the center before continuing, “I have no regrets about leaving Baltimore. My life here was a façade, I lived for my own pleasure and when I met you, I saw how meaningless it was. The first night that you dined here, you said that I was lonely. You were right. There is no life for me without you.”

Will leaned over and kissed him. When he pulled away, he said, “When this is all done, there may be no life for either of us.”

Hannibal smiled with quiet assurance and said, “I think that together we’re more than a match for the FBI. Maybe the world.”

Will laughed derisively, “I’m surprised you didn’t say for God himself.”

He stood up and walked over to Hannibal. He slid his arms around his shoulders and kissed the back of his head. He said affectionately, “Your arrogance will be your downfall just like the hero in a Greek tragedy. Now, you vain man, you do the dishes while I take out the trash. Then we should go to bed.”

“It’s only 8:30, Will.”

He replied with a smirk, “I know.”

As he pulled away, Hannibal’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist, “Once your through, go to the bedroom, take a shower and then get into bed. I want to try something different.”

Will felt himself hardening as he replied, “Yes, sir.”

As soon as he closed the lid of the trash bin, he remembered tomorrow morning was trash collection. He sighed, anxious to get upstairs. He debated for a moment not doing it. But, one, Hannibal would throw a snit if the garbage wasn’t picked up and two, it took him forever to wash the dishes. He dragged the black bin down to the street and placed it next to the curb.

When he went into the bedroom, he started to feel anxious. There were a lot of thing that he and Hannibal hadn’t done yet. And many of them were things that he wasn’t ready for. He reminded himself that Hannibal would never do anything that he didn’t want him to. He stripped of his clothes. He hung up his suit, rolled up his tie and put it the correct drawer and threw his underthings in the hamper. He went into the en suite and took a brief but thorough shower. After toweling off, he came back to the bedroom and stared contemplatively at the bed for a few minutes. He moved a pillow to the center of the bed and moved the others out the way. He slid under the covers and positioned himself in the middle of the bed, resting his head on the remaining pillow. He stared into the flames of the fire Hannibal must have lit in the fireplace before starting dinner. He tried to wrangle his racing thoughts.

He felt Hannibal’s presence as soon as he entered the room. He turned off the overhead light. Then he started undressing himself. Will reminded himself to be patient. It would take a while. After undressing himself and putting everything in its place, Hannibal approached the side of the bed. Will swallowed as he looked at him, completely nude. His walking was more like that of a stalking cat’s then a man’s. He leaned over the bed to caress Will’s face. He asked, “Do you trust me, Will?”

“Yes.”

“Then turn over on your stomach and spread your legs.”

Will’s gut clenched and his whole body stiffened.

Before he could speak, Hannibal sat down on the bed. He took Will’s hand and said earnestly, “I will not penetrate you with my cock or my fingers.”

Will exhaled. Then he realized what Hannibal’s carefully chosen words meant. He let out a quiet, “Oh.”

Hannibal leaned over and grazed his lips with his. He nosed into his curls taking in Will’s smell. He did not like the anxiety that he scented. He wanted him anticipating, not fearing. He kissed him on the side of the neck and then whispered, “You’re in control, darling. You can ask me to stop and I will do so immediately.”

Will nodded.

It was an easy promise to make, Will wouldn’t want him to stop once he started. But if he did, he would. Hannibal schooled his expression. This was no time to preen. He pulled back the covers. He bit his lip to keep himself from making an undignified noise when Will positioned himself as he requested. Beautiful. It would be easier if Will was on all fours, but he would not ask him to do it. Not yet. He grabbed one of the extra pillows from the side of the bed and helped Will put it under his pelvis. He settled himself between Will’s thighs.

He put his hands flat on the mattress on either side of Will’s upper back. Hannibal kissed the back of his neck. Then he traced Will’s spine with the tip of his tongue from his medulla oblongata all the way down to his conus medullaris. He delighted in the way Will’s body shivered in response. He pressed small kisses all over his sacrum as he ran his hands over the back of his thighs. He slid his hands up to his hips, gripping them softly as he pressed a kiss where his gluteal muscles met. He rubbed his face against one check and then the other as he slipped a hand down to press on Will’s perineum with the palm of his hand.

He kept a steady pressure on Will’s perineum as his fingers lightly stroked his testicles. Will started making choked out little noises. In response, Hannibal started kissing the rounds of Will’s ass. At first, small presses with his lips. When his boy started to rock his hips and moaning, he graduated to open mouth kissing alternating with broad strokes with his tongue.

Will moaned out, “Good, so good.”

Hannibal slid his hand up and gripped one of his hips firmly.

“Oh, fuck.”

He grasped the other hip with his free hand. He took a moment to inhale Will’s scent, all arousal. He tilted him up slightly. He licked Will’s perineum firmly causing him to groan out, “Oh god, baby.”

Hannibal licked for several minutes as Will writhed and moaned. Then he pressed his open mouth on him and started sucking. He alternated between kissing and sucking, pushing Will into pleasure so intense it was almost painful. When Will clutched at the sheets and started making the most delightfully wanton sounds, Hannibal pulled away. He slid his hands from his darling boy’s hips to his checks and spread them. The sight of Will’s most intimate space, only seen by him, and his hoarse, indecipherable words, almost made him climax. He took a few long steadying breaths to calm himself. He also banished the thought of penetrating him, claiming him for his own. Instead he placed a gentle kiss to his anus.

Will felt like he was going out of his mind as Hannibal kissed him _there_ like he would kiss his mouth. First teasing and gentle, closed mouth. Then he added little flicks of his tongue. Will felt warmth seeping through his whole body and his pelvis and his hips pushed up and back towards Hannibal’s mouth under their own volition. Then he started running his tongue in a circular motion over his sphincter.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop”

He didn’t stop, instead he drove his tongue inside of him. Will arched his back and let out a yelp. Hannibal pulled his tongue out slightly and then back in. He did it again and again, building up a steady rhythm. All of the muscles in Will’s body tensed. He felt like he was coming, but he wasn’t in a position to either stroke himself or rut into the mattress to make himself ejaculate. He heard himself whining but he couldn’t muster up any shame, he was completely in his body. Hannibal paused slightly and then plunged his tongue in further. He found his prostrate and started stimulating it with the tip of his tongue. He started to come but it was different, more intense, he felt like his whole body was orgasming. His back arched and he shouted out, “Fuck.”

He head and torso fell back onto the bed. Hannibal withdrew his tongue gently and then let go of Will’s ass. He placed a few kisses on his checks. Will was sobbing and Hannibal worried that he pushed him too far. He laid down on his side, facing his beautiful boy. He asked softly, “Are you alright?”

Will shook his head. Hannibal slid an arm under him and encircled his torso with the other to pull Will against him. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling Will’s chest and arms over him. Will nestled his head under his chin. Hannibal ran a soothing hand up and down his back silently. Waiting for him to speak when he was ready. His crying slowly deescalated into silence. When it stopped, Hannibal kissed the crown of his head.

Will whispered, “That was intense.”

“Too much?”

“No, just unexpected. I didn’t know if I would like it.”

“But you did?”

“Obviously,” Will smiled but his voice betrayed concern as he murmured into Hannibal’s neck, ”I don’t think that I could do that to you.”

Hannibal pulled back slightly and said quietly, “William, please look at me.”

Will lifted his head from Hannibal’s neck and tilted himself so that he could look into his eyes.

Hannibal ran a finger down the scar on Will’s face and then said, “Not everything in our sexual relationship needs to be reciprocated.”

“But.”

Before he could finish his response, Hannibal kissed him tenderly.

“What we do together is for our mutual pleasure and to express our love. Give me what you enjoy giving me, not something that you feel that you owe me.”

When his boy didn’t respond, he asked, “Yes?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal felt Will’s cock achingly hard and dripping pressed against his body. He enclosed it in a loose fist and pumped it slowly as he purred, “Would you like to fuck me?”

Will placed his hand over Hannibal’s and he stopped his motions immediate. His boy confessed, “I’ll never make it through prepping you.”

“That’s alright, darling, I can—”

Will cut him off, “No, I don’t want to hurt you.”

His father withdrew his hand from his cock. He reached clumsily over to the nightstand to retrieve the bottle of lube. When he settled back in bed with the bottle in hand, he said, “Roll on to your side.”

His boy did as he asked. He rolled onto his side as well. He snaked one arm under Will’s side to bring them closer. They tangled their legs together and pushed their groins closer. Hannibal drizzled a generous amount of lube on their cocks. He encircled Will’s dripping member with his hand and Will did the same for him. They stroked each other just the way they knew that the other one liked it. Both panted, eyes cast down, gazes fixed on what they were doing to each other. Will could feel the warmth of the fire on his back, the heat of Hannibal’s body every where they touched, and the burning pleasure of Hannibal’s hand on his cock. It didn’t take long for him to climax and Hannibal followed shortly afterwards.

Hannibal rolled him over on his back and caged his body with his. He kissed him for what felt like hours. Eventually, Will grasped him by his hair and pulled him off him. “I don’t want to fall asleep all sticky.”

Hannibal gave him a thoroughly besotted smiled and said, “As you wish.”

They showered together and then curled up in bed, Will’s back nestled to Hannibal’s front. They drifted off almost at once.

Beverly arrived at Hannibal’s house at 3:00 am. The neighborhood was eerily quiet and not a light was on in any of the houses on Hannibal’s street including his own. If she found nothing, no loss. If she found something, she would tell Jack. Better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. She parked her car at the beginning of Hannibal’s block and made her way to his house. She was garbed in all black including a watch cap under which she stuffed her ponytail, in case someone saw her and decided to call the police to report a prowler, there wouldn’t be much of a description.

Her stomach started to knot as she got closer to her destination. She took a few steadying breaths. She would be out on the street. It was deadly quiet, and she would hear anyone coming out of the house. Plenty of time to flee back to her car. If anyone chased her, she would scream her head off. This wasn’t the type of neighborhood that ignored a woman’s screams. When she arrived at her destination, she pulled out a small flashlight before opening the black trash bin. She leaned over and looked inside; it was full of small white trash bags. She straightened up with a huff. Dr. Lecter must clean out every single trash can in his house daily. She was going to have to take multiple trips back and forth to the car. Damn it.

She didn’t hear him coming. One strong arm suddenly circled her torso, pinning her arms against her side and the other arm circled her neck, cutting off her air. He dragged her backwards towards the house as she passed out.


	18. Ruthless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hooks hung from the ceiling for draining carcasses. There was a free-standing butcher’s electric saw, large enough to accommodate a human corpse. One wall was adorned with a nauseating array of knives and cleavers. Shelves held meat grinders, electric hand saws, bottles of cleaners and bleach, and stainless-steel buckets. Everything could be attributed to a chef who hunted game or simply preferred to butcher his own meat.

Beverly opened her eyes. She forced herself not to panic when she realized that she was tied to a chair and that there was someone standing behind her, holding himself completely still. She looked at the wall in front of her and realized that she was in a basement. She looked down to the floor and swallowed hard, the chair she was sitting in was situated in the middle of a plastic tarp. She knew what it meant to be taken to a second location. 

“Does Jack know you’re here?” 

Beverly shook her head no. 

“Does anyone know you’re here?” 

She hesitated and two strong hands gripped her shoulders. He leaned over and said softly in her ear, “Tell me the truth. I’ll know if you’re lying.” 

He stood up and let go of her shoulders. He waited. 

“No. I told Jimmy that I wanted to do it. He thinks he talked me out of it.” 

A firm hand grasped her left shoulder. 

“I am sorry, Beverly.” 

“No, Will, don’t!” 

Will sliced her throat open in one swift move. He wanted it to be painless. 

He looked down at the body slumped in the chair, he didn’t feel anything. 

He heard Hannibal’s steps coming down the stairs. He approached quietly; Will could barely hear him in his stockinged feet. He embraced Will from behind and took the scalpel from his hand. He threw it behind him. Will heard it rattle against the stainless steel of the sink. 

Will tilted his head against Hannibal’s shoulder and said archly, “Is there anything that you aren’t good at? Years of playing baseball growing up and I still would have missed the sink.” 

Hannibal nuzzled his neck and asked, “Regrets?” 

Will ran his fingers through Hannibal’s hair and said simply, “No,” he continued, “We don’t have much time. Jimmy thinks that he talked her out of coming. When she doesn’t show up for work tomorrow and he can’t reach her, he’ll tell Jack. You can’t display her. We don’t want the whole of the FBI on our tracks.” 

“So, we dump the body, clean up the house and leave?” 

“Yes.” 

Jack pulled up to Lecter’s house at ten in the morning, enraged. He got out of his car and Jimmy, who had insisted coming with him, followed. Jack pounded on the door and received no response. He was debating kicking the door down when he heard the voice of a young girl behind him say, “They’re gone.” 

Jack and Jimmy turned around. A girl pushing a pink bike stood on the sidewalk. She looked to be about nine, blue eyes and blonde pigtails. She reminded Jack of Molly somehow. Jack walked over to her. He crouched so their eyes were level. He asked in a gentle tone, “Where did they go?” 

“Dr. Lecter said they were taking a trip to Europe.” 

“When did he tell you this?” 

“This morning, they were putting suitcases in the car. I saw them and I came over to see what was going on. I like Dr. Lecter.” 

“Did he say anything else?” 

“He asked me to pick up his newspaper and mail everyday and put it on the table in the hall. He said he’d text me when I didn’t need to do it anymore.” 

“Do you have the key with you?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m a friend of Will’s,“ Jack was interrupted before he could finish. 

“Is that Dr. Lecter’s son? He’s weird.” 

Jack bit back his impatience and continued on in the kindly tone he had adopted with her, “Yes, he is. Will texted me this morning asking me to pick up his medication and send it to him. He forgot to pack it.” 

The girl hesitated. Jack pulled out his FBI badge and showed it to her before continuing, “Will and I work at the FBI together.” 

She asked incredulously, “He’s an FBI agent?” 

Jimmy said, “No. He was a teacher.” 

The girl nodded her head wisely. She handed Jack the key and said, “When you’re done, you can bring it to me. I live across the street.” 

They watched as she wheeled her bike home. 

“That doesn’t constitute permission, Jack.” 

“I know. Let’s see what we find anyway.” 

They went through the house thoroughly, starting in the bedrooms. Neither commented on the fact that only the master bedroom had been used recently. Hannibal’s and Will’s clothes hung together in the closet. The bureau drawers were divided between the two of them. Items were missing but not enough to indicate a permanent move. Razors, toothbrushes, and grooming products were absent from the bathroom. 

Eventually, they made their way to the kitchen. Jack opened the fridge and found it completely empty. Jimmy looked through the entrance to the dining room at the herb garden and asked Jack, “Who’s taking care of the plants?” 

“Probably a plant service.” 

They both looked around the kitchen but there was nothing to see. Jack opened the pantry door and Jimmy followed him in. Jack opened the freezer, it was empty. He took a step back, not realizing that Jimmy was right behind him. He bumped him hard enough that they both lost their balance and crashed into the wine rack. A bottle of red wine fell to the ground and broke. Jimmy looked down at the floor. He grabbed Jack’s arm tightly and pointed down. 

Jack smiled slowly and said, “Bingo.” 

The wine was seeping into some cracks in the floorboards forming a square. They both dropped to their knees and ran their hands along the flooring until they found it. The embedded handle for the entrance to Hannibal’s basement. They opened the trap door after turning on their small halogen flashlights. They made their way down the stairs carefully. When they reached the bottom, Jimmy found the light switch and flipped it. 

Jack said softly, “Jesus Christ.” 

Hooks hung from the ceiling for draining carcasses. There was a free-standing butcher’s electric saw, large enough to accommodate a human corpse. One wall was adorned with a nauseating array of knives and cleavers. Shelves held meat grinders, electric hand saws, bottles of cleaners and bleach, and stainless-steel buckets. Everything could be attributed to a chef who hunted game or simply preferred to butcher his own meat. Jimmy went to the freezer and opened it. 

He said resignedly to Jack, “Empty.” 

Jack ran his hand through his hair and replied, “it’s spotless. Even if we could call in a forensic team, it wouldn’t matter.” 

Jimmy looked at Jack and said, “We’re never going to find her, are we?” 

Jack shook his head slowly and said resignedly, “No.” 

Jimmy and Jack both resigned from the FBI within six months. Jimmy took a teaching post at Quantico. Jack nursed Bella until her death. 

Will and Hannibal arrived at Lecter Manor well rested. They had flown from D.C. to Brussels and stopped over for a few days. Will liked it there. It felt more like a village than a large city. He enjoyed wandering through the streets with Hannibal who lectured him on the historical significance of the landmarks they visited. And the beer was incredible. He would never drink American again. The flight from there to Vilnius was only a couple of hours. Once they landed, Hannibal picked up a rental, a silver Mercedes-Benz AMG GT. Will wondered if he would ever take the new level of luxury in his life for granted. Hannibal insisted on dinner and a night at a hotel in the capital. They would leave for the estate in the morning. 

Will woke up to Hannibal dressing and humming to himself. He took a moment to look at his father who seemed deeply happy and completely at ease. He realized how much it meant to Hannibal to show him their ancestral home. Hannibal wanted to him to know where he came from, where they came from. Hannibal became aware of his gaze and turned around to meet it. He walked back over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. He ran his fingers through Will’s hair. He said softly, “It is time for you to get out of bed, you lazy boy.” 

Will took his hand and said, “I can’t wait to get there.” 

Hannibal looked pleased. 

They drove through Old Town and then out into the forest. Will was surprised by the small amount of time that it took to get to the manor, it was barely outside the city. When they arrived, he understood why Hannibal insisted that they stay in the hotel overnight. Hannibal had wanted him to see it for the first time by daylight and he was grateful that he had. It was impressive—a sprawling grey two story neo-classical building, fronted by a large lawn featuring a circular fountain. Behind the house lay an impenetrable forest. The enormous grounds were guarded by a fence of iron with spikes at the top of each bar. Hannibal got out of the car when they reached the gate and unlocked it himself. As he drove them through the gate and then stopped the car again to relock it, Will wondered why no one was there to do it for them. 

When they reached the house, the door was opened by a beautiful Japanese woman of indeterminable age, garbed in black hunting clothes. She greeted his father in English, “Hannibal, welcome home.” 

“Thank you, Chiyoh,” Hannibal swept a hand towards Will, “May I present my son, William Graham.” 

Chiyoh bowed and said, “Welcome home, William.” 

Will found the formality ridiculous but went along with it. Instead of extending his hand and asking her to call him Will, he bowed back and said, “Thank you, Chiyoh.” 

A smile played at her lips but didn’t reach her eyes as she said, “Come, I will show you to your room.” 

As she moved to take Will’s bag from the ground of the foyer. Hannibal’s hand grasped her arm gently to stop her, “Will can carry his own bag. He would be embarrassed to have you do so. Also, he will be staying in the master bedroom with me.” 

Chiyoh’s face was impassive. She nodded curtly and walked up the stairs with Hannibal and Will following her to their bedroom. As she walked, she considered the situation. Although, Will did not resemble Hannibal, he strongly resembled the men in the late Countess Lecter’s family with the exception of his vivid blue eyes. 

After situating Hannibal and Will, she went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea and think about what she would do. After an hour or so, Hannibal joined her. He examined the fowl that Chiyoh had shot and dressed that morning. He nodded his approval. He started to speak to her, but before he could do so, she left the kitchen through the back door and walked towards the hunting lodge that she had claimed for her own residence. Hannibal did not say anything to her as she left. He started preparing lunch. 

Chiyoh joined Will and Hannibal for lunch an hour later. Hannibal expounded on the history of the manor and the Lecter family for Will’s edification. The younger man was enthralled and asked intelligent questions. Occasionally, he would look at her. She did not like it, she felt like he was opening up her skull and staring inside of it. She was not use to someone being able to read her emotions so easily. Not even Hannibal could truly do that. He could understand her and her motivations intellectually. With that knowledge, he sometimes manipulated her into doing things that she later regretted. This one was worse; he would manipulate you at your core and your mind would rebel against the idea that he had done so. She spoke when spoken to but remained silent otherwise throughout the meal. 

After Hannibal had finished cleaning up from lunch and Will had gone out to wander in the woods, she approached him. 

“Hannibal, please come to the study with me.” 

He nodded his consent and they made their way silently down a long drafty hall. Inside the study, a fire was blazing in the fireplace, warming the cavernous room. They sat in a pair of comfortable club chairs placed by the fire, turned partially to each other, similar to the much smaller study in Hannibal’s Baltimore home. 

She said in her usual soft tone and gentle manner, “I am returning home.” 

Hannibal looked shocked and said, “I thought this was your home.” 

“No, this has never been my home. I am a servant here.” 

Hannibal frowned. 

She continued, words pleasant, but steel ran beneath them, “You like to think of us as family, but we are not. I was a child when I was indentured to your aunt. She raised me to believe that I was obligated to your family to guard its interests as my own. As a grown woman, I know that was not right. I have stayed on here as the manor’s caretaker because I felt I had nowhere to go. But you have returned home finally and do not need me. So now I will return to Japan to rebuild my life with my own family.” 

She could feel Hannibal’s displeasure. She was confident that he would not harm her physically, but she preferred to keep the discussion civil. She had always turned a blind eye to his morbid proclivities, blaming them on what happened to his family and especially Mischa. She had no desire to discuss this situation with his son with him. But of course, Hannibal’s arrogance wouldn’t leave it be. 

“Why?” 

For the first time in her lifelong dealings with him, she allowed her emotions to show in her voice as she responded, “It’s unnatural and I won’t stay here as you live with your son as your lover.” 

She saw the ire in Hannibal’s face at her words. For a moment, she was truly afraid. She had disavowed her kinship with him and had faulted his actions. She was of no value to him now and there would be no one to miss her if she disappeared. If he was as close to Will as he seemed, then the son was like the father. He would not care what happened to her. She wondered how many they had already butchered together. 

As quickly as the anger had risen, it was iced over by Hannibal’s self-control. He managed to sound offended by her attitude towards his relationship with his son as he asked, “When are you leaving?” 

“In an hour. Goodbye, Hannibal.” 

He bowed stiffly and said, “Goodbye, Chiyoh.” 

He never heard from her again. 

Mrs. Komeda sipped champagne in La Scala’s foyer A. Toscanini during the intermission of a simply delightful staging of _Tristan and Isolde._ She almost gasped when she saw Dr. Hannibal Lecter, impeccably dressed in formal wear, walking gracefully with a champagne flute in either hand towards a couple. He looked positively furious. She had never realized how dangerous he could look. His eyes appeared red, of course that was just a trick of the light. The woman was in her twenties, blonde and running her finely manicured fingers up her companion’s arm. The woman’s red polished fingernails looked like talons. Her red silk dress was expensive, and tailored to her body, but too low cut. She wondered at Hannibal’s choice of companion. She didn’t seem quite his type. The interloper’s back was to her, so she couldn’t see his face, but his clothes were impeccable, a blue so dark it was almost black. And cut to show off his broad shoulders and trim waist. She guessed by the way that he carried himself that he was closer to the woman’s age than Hannibal was. 

Hannibal handed one of the glasses he was carrying to the man. He then wrapped an arm possessively around the younger man’s waist. He gave the woman a frosty smile and leaned slightly towards her. He was practically looming. The blonde unconsciously took a step back. She smiled politely and left. The dark-haired man’s head tilted back, looking up at Hannibal. Hannibal smiled at him. In the years that she had known Hannibal, she had never seen him give anyone a genuine smile, just that little smirky thing he passed off as one. Frankly, she was surprised that Hannibal was homosexual. She had nothing against it, of course. But she had only seen him at the opera with female guests. The blonde one that she had dubbed “The Ice Queen” in her mind and the long-haired brunette, who she thought of as “Snow White”. 

The socialite made her way through the crowd to them. Making sure to approach Hannibal head on, so he would see her. When he did, he smiled at her, a pleasant but fake one. He let go of his companion and took her hand in his to kiss it. She looked at the young man and he was thrilling. Dark curls framing a classically handsome face: Heart shaped with striking blue eyes, a perfectly straight but broad masculine nose, full, shapely mouth, and a wicked looking white line running down it like a dueling scar. No wonder Hannibal was so clearly besotted. She was startled out of her admiring reverie by Hannibal’s voice. 

“Mrs. Komeda, may I present my son, William Graham.” 

Hannibal managed not to smirk at Mrs. Komeda’s uncharacteristic loss of composure. 

She heard herself repeating, stupidly, “Your son? I had no idea that you had one.” 

William smiled, perfect teeth as well. She wondered if Hannibal had magicked him into existence from one of his sketches. She considered seriously for a moment if he really was his son, he didn’t look a damn thing like him. The younger man seemed to pluck the thoughts right out of her head when he said, in a rather pleasing voice, “Neither did Hannibal until about a year and a half ago. We meant by chance in Baltimore on a case for the FBI.” 

Will went on smoothly, answering her next unasked question, “I was a profiler for the FBI at that time.” 

“How exciting!” 

“Will caught serial killers,” Hannibal added proudly. 

Mrs. Komeda looked enthralled. So, Will continued, “Hannibal was consulting on a case and was with me when I apprehended a suspect. We were both attacked. DNA at the scene showed that Hannibal was my father.” 

“It’s like something from a book!” 

Hannibal said, in a playful tone, “A young man finding out that he is the son of a Lithuanian count.” 

Mrs. Komeda blinked as asked breathlessly, “You’re a count? Why did you never tell us?” 

His son interjected drily, “He doesn’t like to brag.” 

He and the older woman exchanged looks and she giggled. Hannibal looked miffed. 

“I never would have known he was your son,” Mrs. Komeda felt a blush start to rise in her checks and that hadn’t happened in decades. She stumbled on, “I mean, he doesn’t look a thing like you.” 

“He takes after his mother. His nose, however, comes from my mother’s family.” 

“What brings you to Milan?” 

“Will’s never been to Europe before. I am giving him what they used to call ‘The Grand Tour’.” 

“So odd that you are here now though.” 

Hannibal gave her a sharp look but asked in his usual calm manner, “Why do you say that?” 

“Well, it’s a strange coincidence.” 

Will interjected, “What is?” 

“That terrible man is here. I just saw him today. The one that asked all the questions about you when you left Baltimore last year. Jack something. Crawfish? No, that can’t be right.” 

Will said with a friendly little grin, “Jack Crawford?” 

“That’s it.” 

Mrs. Komeda’s eyes darted over his shoulder. He tensed and Hannibal pressed his hand to Will’s back to ground him. 

“Hannibal, it has been wonderful to see you. And to meet you, William. But I see someone, I simply must say hello to.” 

“It was a pleasure meeting you, ma’am.” 

She smiled at him. Gorgeous. Well-mannered too. That “ma’am” screamed Southern. 

As soon as she left, Will turned to Hannibal, and said in a low voice, “The game’s afoot.” 

They walked back to the hotel hand in hand after the performance ended. Will was too restless to stay after and socialize. It was still difficult for him at the best of times. As always, Hannibal put his needs first and didn’t so much as give one pout. Of course, although he didn’t show it, he was excited about Jack. Electricity flowed between them. They were hunting together again, it had been months. Hannibal had been intent on showing Will all of Italy with no distractions. And not just any game this time, but an experienced FBI man with a personal beef. Zeller. Beverly. And two killers who had worked for him, whom he had trusted, the wolves amongst the sheep. 

Will waited until they were in their hotel suite to talk about their problem. As he and Hannibal undressed each other, he spoke, “He’s dangerous. He is out of the FBI and Bella is gone; he has nothing to lose.” 

Hannibal made a little humming noise in agreement. He kissed Will briefly and then said, “There’s two of us and we have much to lose.” 

“We can’t do anything about it here.” 

“Neither can he. He followed us to the hotel, but he can hardly confront us here. We’re not wanted men. He may have nothing to lose but I doubt that he wants to end his days in an Italian prison.” 

“So?” 

“We give him what he wants, somewhere out of the way with no witnesses.” 

Hannibal could smell the excitement on Will. Blue eyes met his and he asked breathlessly, “Where?” 

His father slipped the gold cufflinks out of Will’s shirt and held one up in his fingers, the crest towards Will. He said with a smile, “Home.” 


	19. Denouement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will looked thoughtful for a moment and then replied in a steady voice, “Yes. Though I wouldn’t be eating them and I would be lonely, as lonely as Hannibal was before he met me. I worked for you because I wanted those killers in my head even when I denied it. Maybe you would have caught me, and the press would have hounded Molly, questioning how she could not have known that her husband was a serial killer. Wally’s life would have been stained by my shadow. You would have been made a laughingstock, the head of the FBI who unknowingly recruited a monster to find one. Would that have been better?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting.

Jack was cold. In the dense forest behind the Lecter manor, he laid on the ground with a sniper rifle next to him. It had been easy, but not suspiciously so, to discover that Will and Hannibal were returning here when they left Milan. Before pursuing them back to their home, he stopped off in Florence, revisiting sites that he had seen for the first time with Bella. He wished that they had returned there together but his work at the FBI prevented any extended vacations. But that wasn’t completely true, it was his devotion to his work there that stopped them. He could have found a way. He chose not to. Just like he chose to keep pursing The Ripper case until Bella was too sick to be left alone.

He shoved his regrets to the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand. He wouldn’t be able to take both men at the same time. But the sound of the first one being shot would bring the second one running to aid him, giving him time to line up the next shot. He didn’t care which of them went first. He kept his field glasses trained on the back entrance of the house. He had been on the ground for an hour and it was taking a concentrated effort to ignore his discomfort and keep his mind focused. He was unsure of how much more time passed before a figure finally emerged from the house.

It was Will, almost unrecognizable. He seemed taller. It was his posture; Jack had never noticed how much Will had hunched into himself, making himself look smaller than he was. He was outfitted in a black wool calf length coat, fitted to his chest and waist with a slight flare in the lower half of the material to allow his legs to move freely. Black braided hook and fasteners kept it closed instead of buttons. Polished black leather boots gleamed, even in the grey light of winter. His head was covered with a Greek fisherman’s cap.

He whistled and a pack of dogs ran towards him from all directions. They circled excitedly around him. He gestured and they formed a semi-circle around him and obediently sat back on their haunches. It wasn’t a pack of strays. The seven nearly identical dogs were sturdy and heavy-boned, but at the same time sleek and muscular. Each dog’s thick short black fur was spotted with brown in different places—snout, chest, ears, or forehead. Their demeanor, posture and shape indicated that they were hunting dogs.

Jack was stunned into inaction for a moment, taken in by the difference between this man and the one he had known before. His bearing was confident, bordering on arrogant. He looked regal, befitting the home that sprawled behind him. He wasn’t Will Graham anymore; he was William Lecter. Jack put down the field glasses and picked up the rifle. He looked through the scope and lined up Will’s face in the crosshairs. As he steadied himself to pull the trigger, he heard footsteps behind him. He instinctively turned his head to look. A mistake. He should have taken the shot. Hannibal Lecter loomed above him. Before Jack could move, Hannibal jumped on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

He hissed, “Would you take back the gift that you gave me, Jack?”

There was a stinging in his neck, then darkness.

Jack came into consciousness slowly. He couldn’t move. He looked down, he was tied to a chair, ropes bound his chest to the chair’s back, his forearms were bound to its arms, and his ankles to the legs. He could feel warmth radiating from his back through to the rest of his body. There must be a fireplace behind him. He looked around and realized that he was in a dining room. One wall was completely covered by a golden Japanese mural decorated with white cranes in flight. He had been placed at the foot of a long ebony table. Hannibal sat at the head with Will at his right. Centered above the dining room table hung a chandelier made from antlers, something older and more primitive than the classic lines of the rest of the décor.

“Good evening, Jack,” Hannibal said smoothly, “Will and I were delighted that you could join us for dinner.”

Will stood up and moved gracefully around the table to Jack. In one fluid movement, he pulled a knife out of his pocket and flicked it open. He grinned at Jack and cut the ropes that bound his forearms. He straightened up and said with a veneer of hospitality, “You’ll need your hands free to eat.”

Will returned to his seat. Hannibal stood up to carve the meat, Jack was comforted to see that it was clearly a duck.

Seemingly reading his thoughts, Hannibal said with a mocking tone, “Did you think that I would be rude enough to feed you one of our kills?’

“You have feed me your victims before.”

Hannibal plated slices of the duck along with roasted potatoes for Jack. He drizzled a orange-brown sauce over the duck. As he worked, he said to Jack, “It would be rude to do so for your last supper.”

He placed the plate in front of Jack and announced, “Duck à l'orange with potatoes roasted in goose fat.”

He returned to the head of the table and served both Will and himself. When he sat down, he raised a glass of white wine and said, “To our honored guest.”

Will raised his glass and they both took a sip of wine.

Hannibal asked conversationally, “What brings you to Lithuania, Jack?”

Jack looked at Hannibal, annoyance flaring in his face. He responded, “Brian Zeller and Beverly Katz.”

Hannibal took a delicate bite of the duck. He dabbed his mouth with his napkin before responding, “So, you believe that either Will or I have information to aid your case.”

Jack slammed a fist onto the table, making his place setting jump. He responded loudly, “No. Not like this. I am not going to do this bullshit dance with you.”

Will said softly, “Don’t, Hannibal.”

Hannibal nodded, a slight pout playing at his lips.

Will continued, “I don’t know what you theorized, Jack, but I killed both of them.”

Jack swallowed, he knew that Will had killed Brian, but he had assumed Hannibal had killed Beverly.

“I enjoyed killing Brian. No, I was ecstatic. He was my first intended kill. I loved displaying him, showing the world who he truly was. I reveled in his fear and pain,” he stopped to drink his wine before continuing, “I cooked his tongue and served it to Hannibal in Wolf Trap. My gift for him in return for the heart he left me in the church. Afterwards, I made love to him in my marital bed to show him that he was mine now and I would put no one else above him.”

Jack grimaced, Will was completely unashamed. He asked, “Did you feel the same way about, Beverly?”

Will took a bite of the duck and just as Hannibal had done, dabbed at his lips with a napkin and took a sip of wine. All his movements were a perfect echo of his father’s. He continued, “I took no pleasure in killing Beverly. It had to be done. I slit her throat to make it as fast and painless as possible.”

Jack felt tears prickling in his eyes as the former profiler continued, “If it makes you feel any better, we didn’t take any meat from her. There wasn't time to prepare anything. We dumped her where she’ll never be found. No hero’s funeral for her.”

Hannibal looked over to Jack’s plate and commented to Will, “Our guest is not enjoying his meal. Maybe we should skip dessert.”

Will turned to Jack and said, “Is there anything else that you would like to know?”

Jack looked at him and considered. He asked, “Do you think that you would be killing like this if you hadn’t met Hannibal?”

Will looked thoughtful for a moment and then replied in a steady voice, “Yes. Though I wouldn’t be eating them and I would be lonely, as lonely as Hannibal was before he met me. I worked for you because I wanted those killers in my head even when I denied it. Maybe you would have caught me, and the press would have hounded Molly, questioning how she could not have known that her husband was a serial killer. Wally’s life would have been stained by my shadow. You would have been made a laughingstock, the head of the FBI who unknowingly recruited a monster to find one. Would that have been better?”

Jack didn’t respond.

Hannibal turned to Will and asked, “How would you like to do it, darling boy?”

Will considered Jack for a moment before responding, “He’s a bloodhound that’s too old for the chase. He’s lost his mate and his pack. I want to put him down like I’ve done with my dogs when they would get too sick to want to live anymore.”

His lover frowned as he said, “He wanted to take you from me.”

“He would have killed you too.”

“What if he had not? What if he had killed you and I had killed him. Do you have any idea of what that would have done to me?”

“Yes, it would have felt like your soul was being ripped out of your body. I know that because it’s what I would have felt. But he didn’t succeed. And we owe him a debt.”

“What debt?”

“He brought us together.”

Hannibal sighed resignedly and said, “I will get what we need from my office.”

As Hannibal stood up, Will said teasingly, “You spoil me.”

Hannibal gave him a fond smile and leaned down and in, so that they were face to face, “Always, my beautiful, vicious boy.”

He gave Will a lingering kiss on his mouth before straightening back up and leaving the room. Will enjoyed his dinner as Jack sat in silence watching him. When he finished, he neatly laid his silverware face down on his plate. He poured himself a glass of wine and sipped it appreciatively.

“Does anyone know that you are here, Jack?”

Jack shook his head.

Will prodded further, “No one in the FBI? Alana? Jimmy? Molly?”

“No one knows, Will. I played a lone hand. If I won but was found out, no one would be implicated as an accessory.”

Will believed him.

Hannibal came back to the dining room then, carrying a small, brown leather case in his hand. He asked Will, “Shall I?”

Will placed his hand on Hannibal’s wrist gently and said, “I want to do it.”

Hannibal nodded and handed him the case. They walked over to Jack and Hannibal tied his forearms back to the chair. Jack did not put up a fight. Will leaned over him and said reassuringly, “Don’t worry, I’ve done this before.”

He placed the case on the table and took out a syringe and two vials of clear liquid. He prepared the first shot carefully. He moved closer to Jack and explained, “This first shot is a barbiturate to relax you. I always use it before I put an animal down. I don’t want their last moments to be fearful. If you have anything left to say, this is your chance.”

Jack shook his head. Will gave him the first injection and then said in a low voice, “I hope that you find Bella on the other side.”

When Jack’s body relaxed and his head tipped backwards, Will prepared the second shot, a large enough shot of an anticonvulsant to kill a man. He injected Jack with it as gently as he had the first. He and Hannibal held hands as they watched him die.

Hannibal had dug a grave for Jack out in the forest on the day that they arrived home. They buried him in it under the full moon along with the sniper rifle and the small backpack that he had brought with him. They had found a photo of him and Bella on their wedding day along with her gold band in it. They placed them in Jack’s hands and then covered him with dirt. They walked in silence back to the house. Hannibal ignored the mess in the dining room, he would take care of it tomorrow. Will took the first shower, Hannibal joined him in their bedroom after his, completely nude, his hair damp, stray drops of water glistening on his body.

Will lay on top of the covers on his back, he gave him a lazy grin as bent his legs up and spread them. Hannibal knelt between them and leaned down to kiss him. He could sense Will’s need to make a night of it and preceded along those lines. They kissed and stroked each other’s bodies for quite some time. Relishing the taste of each other’s mouths, the feel of each other’s skins and the sounds of each other’s pleasure. Eventually, Hannibal rolled Will onto his stomach and tucked a pillow under his hips. As he spread his cheeks, Will sighed out, “You love doing that to me.”

Hannibal kissed his sacrum and asked, “Do you enjoy receiving it as much as I enjoy giving it?”

Before Will could answer, Hannibal speared him with his tongue. Will cried out, “Yes!”

Hannibal took his time, immersing himself in Will’s taste and obvious pleasure. He cataloged every sigh, every twitch, every spasm, and every moan. Once his muscles were completely relaxed, he reached over to the bedstand to pump lube onto his fingers while keeping his tongue teasing Will’s prostate. He eased his tongue out and his index finger in and started to gently rub circles on the small bundle of nerves. Will’s back arched and he huffed out, “Perfect baby, just like that.”

Hannibal continued his ministrations for a while and then he started pulling his finger in and out, brushing up against his prostrate with each thrust. When Will started to push back onto his finger, he asked, “Would you like another finger?”

Will shook his head, so he asked, “What do you want, my love?”

“Wanna fuck you.”

Hannibal went back to circling his prostate with his fingertip as he leaned over to whisper in Will’s ear, “I prepared myself for you while I was in the shower, just in case.”

Will grunted happily. Hannibal withdrew his finger and helped him turn around and sit up. Will ran his hand up Hannibal’s neck and laced his fingers through his hair. He nuzzled his throat and said, “Lay down on your back.”

Hannibal shook his head and Will looked surprised. He countered Will’s request with his own, “I want to be on all fours for you.”

“But I like looking into your eyes, experiencing your pleasure as well as mine.”

“I want you to be selfish, to take me to sate only your desire. I want to feel like you are claiming me, that you would kill anyone who would try to take me from you.”

Will kissed his agreement instead of speaking. He told himself if this what Hannibal wanted than he would do it. Then Hannibal turned around and got down on all fours like his Wendigo had and Will felt a wave of animal lust coursing through his body. He lubed himself up generously and then knelt behind Hannibal, a wild sound escaping him. In response, Hannibal folded his arms on the bed and laid his head sideways on them, so that he could look up at Will. His boy grabbed his hips tightly and thrust all the way into him in one powerful stroke.

He couldn’t keep himself from crying out in shock. Will set a brutal pace, all his usual tenderness absent. He pounded into him repeatedly, crying out like a wild beast. Hannibal loved it. He wouldn’t come from it, Will was too out of control to angle himself properly to hit his prostate. He wasn’t even thinking of it. Hannibal could have angled himself but didn’t. This was perfect, just what he wanted. Excitement roiled through him as Will chased his own desire while practically howling. It didn’t take long before his hips started stuttering with his own unique rhythm that would bring him to climax. With one final thrust, he started ejaculating. He hands moved to Hannibal’s pelvis and pushed him back towards him roughly, trying to get in as deep as he could. When he finished climaxing, he collapsed onto Hannibal’s back, panting.

“Fuck.”

Will slid gracelessly off him and onto his back. He held out his arms and Hannibal rolled on top of him. Will ran his hands up and down his back and kissed him gently. He broke the kiss and said, “Now we do it my way.”

Hannibal smiled and rolled off him and onto his back. When Will was like this he would worship Hannibal’s body for hours, concentrating on prostrate climaxes and then either masturbate him or suck him to spilling. Then his boy would start kissing and touching him tenderly again until his cock started to stir back to life. Then the vicious thing would start up again in earnest. One memorable night in Florence, he kept at it for eight hours making Hannibal ejaculate four times. He lost count of the prostrate climaxes. It had been the height of decadence. The hotel’s manager asked them politely the next morning to leave. He hoped Will would keep it to two tonight. He was already exhausted.

Alana, Molly and Jimmy sat around the round oak table in Molly’s Baltimore apartment. After she sold the house in Wolf Trap, a vacancy opened in Alana’s building. She and Wally sold most of their belonging and moved into a cozy two bedroom. It was a little cramped, but they both felt safer there than they would have in a larger home. Another advantage of moving into Baltimore was a different school for him. His new friends wouldn’t know that the stepfather that had left him was the Will Graham, the unstable FBI profiler of TattleCrime fame. Molly had sent Wally to her parents’ home when Alana told her about the letter Jimmy had received at Quantico. He wanted the three of them together when they opened it. Molly didn’t know how she would react when they read the letter and Wally had been through enough.

Alana took a long drink of her red wine. When she placed the glass of wine on the table, she spoke, “I’m ready, are you, Molly?”

Molly nodded. They both looked at Jimmy. He picked up the letter opener that Molly had provided and slid it under the wax seal on the thick ivory envelope. She assumed the seal was the Lecter coat of arms. Hannibal’s coat of arms and Will’s. The letter had been addressed to Ms. Molly Foster, Ms. Alana Bloom and Mr. Jimmy Price in brown-inked copperplate script. Jimmy pulled out a single sheet of stationary that matched the envelope. The writing on it was the same as on the envelope.

He cleared his throat and began reading.

“Dear Alana, Molly and Jimmy,

We were surprised to read about Jack’s disappearance in _The New York Times International Edition_. We promptly made an appointment with an agent at the FBI offices in Riga, Latvia to let them know that we had met him by chance a few weeks earlier in Italy when he was visiting Milan. He had mentioned to us that he wanted to visit Florence again where he and his beloved Bella first met. Given his departure from the FBI, the murder and the disappearance of two of his close associates and the death of his wife, we fear that he may have made the journey to Florence to take his own life. Jack, while a dedicated lawman, was a romantic when it came to his wife.

We have no plans to return to The United States. Will has fallen in love with his ancestral home. He has woods to wander in, a stream to fish in and a pack of seven devoted Lithuanian Hounds. When I grow bored with rural life, he indulges me by letting me dress him up and take him to Italy. We have talked of visiting France and Spain among other places, but he inevitability decides on Italy where I lived as a young man. He has been growing quite fluent in the language and has a passion for the cuisine.

Sadly, this will be the last time that you will probably hear from us. Of course, if we should chance to meet, we would be delighted to have you for dinner.

Sincerely yours,

Hannibal and William Lecter”

The three of them stared at each other mutely for a few moments. Molly broke the silence, “Did they just threaten to kill and eat any one of us that goes near them?”

Jimmy, with atypical conciseness, replied, “Yes.”

Alana spoke next, “When they left, I told the Purnell that I wouldn’t work on the Ripper cases again.”

Jimmy asked, “How did she take it?”

“She wasn’t happy, but she can’t afford to lose me. So, she didn’t try to argue me out of it.”

Molly asked Jimmy, “Have you thought about trying to find them or trying to get the FBI to look into them in relation to The Ripper killings?”

Jimmy took a drink of his wine before answering, “I left forensics field work for teaching because I wanted to close that chapter of my life. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t miss Brian and Bev, but I want to live. And I want to do it without fear. As for trying to interest the FBI, Purnell wouldn’t listen to Jack and he was the head of the BAU. Even now with his disappearance, they still wouldn’t investigate Will and Hannibal. The FBI would never want to admit that two sociopathic killers consulted for them.”

Molly sighed and said, “I am glad that I’m not the only one who is choosing the future over the past. I just want to move on and forget. All I care about is Wally getting through this as unscathed as possible.”

Alana raised her glass and said, “To Beverly, Brian and Jack.”

Molly and Jimmy raised their glasses in salute to the fallen.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Gweezle for the inspiration. I took it in a different direction but Gweezle planted the seed with "All Flesh Consorteth". https://archiveofourown.org/works/7397920/chapters/16804672  
> Also thanks to KatherineKrawl who made me realize playing with canon could actually lead to an interesting story. Check out her "Mark me not a Savage" which I've read three times. And I don't even really like A/B/O. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705220/chapters/26358246


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